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FOUR 
 
 COMEDIES OF TERENCE, 
 
 TRANSLATED, 
 
 AND THE STAGE MANAGEMENT AND MODE OF ACTING 
 THEM SET DOWN, AS THEY WERE ACTED AT 
 
 Wlt&tmin&ttt Uriels S oy 
 
 AND ALSO THE OTHER / ^/J"^ 
 
 TWO COMEDIES OF TERENCE, 
 
 THE HEAUTONTIxMORUMENOS AND THE HECYRA. 
 
 TRANSLATED: 
 
 The whole Six Piays being rendered into English literally, correctly, 
 
 and critirally, according to the Spirit of Terence, 
 
 and proper meaning and construction. 
 
 FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS AND SEMINARIES. 
 
 HY THE REV. GEORGE SACKVILLE COTTER, A.M, 
 
 FORMERLY CAPTAIN OF WESTMINISTER SCHOOL, AND 
 AN ACTOR IN THREE OF THESE COMEDIES. 
 
 Imo non potuit melius pervenirier 
 
 Eo, quo nos volumus Pho. Act IV. Scene III. 
 
 DUBLIN: 
 
 PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, 
 
 FOR HODGES ANP M'ARTHUR, 
 
 21, COLLEGE-GREEN. 
 J824. 
 
<#* 
 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 TO THE REV. RICHARD MAC DONNELL, D.D. 
 FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN, 
 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 MY high estimation of your excellent principles, 
 amiable disposition, good character, and gentlemanly con- 
 duct, induces me to dedicate this work to you. A motive 
 still more powerful than this, is my opinion of your excel- 
 lence in Literary and Scientific attainments. 
 
 To your critical knowledge and erudition I submit 
 this work, my Translation of all Terence's Comedies. 
 To you it is most fitting that it should be dedicated, for 
 I deem that no one is better qualified than you to judge 
 of the merits and demerits of the translation. 
 
 Terence is an Author, as I think, not generally under- 
 stood. The attempt to elucidate his elegant, highly po- 
 lished, and finely dramatic writings to those, who even 
 with severe study are not able to penetrate the misty cloud 
 of difficulty that surrounds them, is, in my opinion, a 
 laudable effort, and will, I hope, be thought so by others, 
 — who may be induced by such an opinion to give en- 
 couragement to this work. 
 
 The Delphini Edition is wrong in many places of its in- 
 terpretation, and even where it is right, often makes the 
 meaning more obscure in the interpretation, than it is in 
 the original. One would imagine that the writers of that 
 interpretation, when puzzled by any difficult sentences 
 had tried to cover their defect by an abundant superfluity 
 of construction, and far-fetched words and phrases, making 
 darkness still more obscure. 
 
 a 2 
 
IV DEDICATION. 
 
 I must beg leave to say a few words with regard to my- 
 self. — I had greater opportunities of thoroughly under- 
 standing Terence's plays than most other Scholars, from 
 the circumstance of my having acted principal parts in 
 some of them when an advanced scholar at Westminister 
 school. Terence has been my favourite classic since, and 
 I have studied his comedies much. I therefore presume 
 to flatter myself that I can furnish as it were a key to un- 
 lock the arcana of the author, and can smooth the road 
 of a complete knowledge of his writings, to the young and 
 uninformed scholar. 
 
 My intention has been to make the translation closely 
 literal, correct, and critical, paying aecurate attention to 
 moods and tenses, and to preserve the spirit of the ex- 
 cellent original. I trust that I have rendered the Author 
 into English in good language, plain, and best adapted 
 to the meaning and the strict construction of the sentences. 
 With more latitude, it might have been in better stile. 
 
 You have perused some of my translation, and were 
 so good as to say, you were highly pleased with it. In 
 consequense of that approbation I am induced to think 
 better of the work, and to entertain hopes that you will 
 equally approve of the rest. 
 
 I have the pleasure to be, 
 Dear Sir, 
 Your sincere friend 
 
 And obedient 
 
 Humble servant, 
 GEORGE SACKVILLE COTTER. 
 
 YOUGHAL, 
 
 January 26, 1824. 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 OF THE ANDRIA OF TERENCE. 
 
 THE Poet, when he first applied his mind to writing, 
 believed that business alone to be imposed upon him, as 
 to the fables which he might have made, that these should 
 please the people. But he perceived that it came to pass 
 very differently : for he goes astray from his task in writ- 
 ing prologues ; this prologue is not that which may relate 
 the argument (of the Comedy,) but that which may an- 
 swer the revilings of a malicious old Poet. Now, I re- 
 quest of you, apply your attention to understand, what 
 thing these revilings may give as a fault (in our Poet.) 
 
 Menander made the Andria and Perinthia. He who 
 may have known either comedy properly, can have known 
 them both. Because they are not of a dissimilar sto- 
 ry; although they were made with an unlike mode of 
 speech and style. Our Poet confesses that he transferred 
 from the Perinthia into the Andria those things which 
 were suitable, and used them for his own. Those men 
 (who cavil) blame that deed: and in that thing they con- 
 tend, that it is not proper that the Fables should be 
 mixed together. Truly by their understanding this, they 
 bring about that they can understand nothing. They who, 
 when they accuse this Poet, accuse Naevius, Plautus, and 
 Ennius ; whom this our Poet has as his authors ; and 
 whose carelessness in this he wishes to vindicate, rather 
 than the ignorant exactness of those men. Moreover I 
 admonish those men, that hereafter they may be at rest, 
 and may cease to revile, lest they may know (and hear of) 
 their own bad deeds. Now be ye favorable, be present 
 with a just disposition, and understand the business (of 
 the Comedy) that ye may know what hope can be left here- 
 after as to the Comedies which our Poet will make anew: 
 whether they maybe (fit) to be looked at by you, or rather 
 to be driven off (the Stage). 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 Of THE EUNUCHUS OF TERENCE. 
 
 IF there is any one who may be desirous, that he may 
 please good men as many as possible, and offend as few 
 as possible ; among these men this Poet professes his name 
 to be (numbered). Then if there is anyone, who has 
 thought that it has been spoken more severely against him 
 (than is right), let him estimate thus ; that he has been 
 answered, not spoken against, because he first offended 
 (by his reviling). He who by changing the Comedies 
 well, and writing the same badly, has made indifferent 
 Latin Comedies from good Greek ones, the same man 
 has now given lately the Phasma of Menander. And he 
 ha9 written in the Thisaurus, that he from whom it is de- 
 manded why the money may be his own (the possessor), 
 pleads his cause before that the claimant pleads there, who 
 demands whence he may have that treasure, or whence it 
 may have come into his father's tomb. Henceforward, 
 let him not himself deceive himself, nor think thus ; I 
 have now escaped, and there is nothing which he can say 
 to me. I admonish him, that he may not mistake (thus), 
 and that he may cease to assail me. I have many other 
 things (and charges) as to which he shall at present be 
 pardoned, which shall be brought forward hereafter, if 
 he shall go on to offend me, as he determined to do — 
 Now, as to the Comedy which we are about to act, the 
 Eunuchus of Terence, after the iEdiles bought it, he 
 brought to pass, that he should have the power of in- 
 specting it. When the Magistrate was present there, the 
 Comedy was undertaken to be acted. He cries out, that a 
 Thief, and not a Poet had given this fable, and yet had 
 given none of the words of it: that Colax was an old fable 
 of Naevius and Plautus: that the character of the Parasite 
 was carried off (by vile robbery) from thence, and also the 
 character of the soldier. If that is a fault, the giddiness of the 
 Poet is the fault, but not that by which he may have wished 
 to make a robbery. That it is so, yewill now be ableto judge. 
 Colax is a Comedy of Menander : in it is a Parasite called 
 Colax, and a vaunting soldier : the Poet does not deny 
 that he has transferred those characters from the Greek 
 
Comedy into the Eunuchus bis own Comedy. But that 
 he had known that those Fables were made Latin ones 
 before, that he positively denies. But if it is not lawful 
 to others to make use of the same characters, how is it 
 more lawful to describe servants running about, to make 
 matrons good women, and harlots bad women, a Parasite 
 voracious, a soldier bragging, a child to be superimposed, 
 an old man to be deceived through a servant, and to love, 
 hate, and suspect ? Lastly, nothing is now said (in these 
 days) which may not have been said before. Wherefore 
 it is just, that you should understand, and pardon, if new 
 writers do those things, which antient writers have already 
 done. Give ye your attention, and apply your mind with 
 silence, that ye may knowthoroughout, what the Eunuchus 
 may mean (to lay before you). 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 OF THE ADELPHI OF TERENCE. 
 
 AFTER that the Poet perceived that his writing was 
 noticed by unjust men, and that enemies were dragging 
 into jeopardy the Comedy which we are about to act; 
 he himself will be an open testimony concerning himself: 
 ye shall be the judges, whether it be proper that that 
 deed be accounted a praise or a crime. There is a 
 Comedy of Diphilus by name Synapothescontes: Plau- 
 tus hath made that a Comedy by name Synapothescontes: 
 Plautus hath made that a Comedy by name Commorientes. 
 In the Greek Comedy there is a young man, who drags 
 away a harlot from a pimp, in the first part of the fable, 
 Plautus has left that place whole (and untouched). This 
 Poet has taken that place to himself into the Adelphi : he 
 has brought it out expressed word for word. We are 
 about to act that as a new fable: distinguish ye, whether 
 ye may estimate, that a theft has been made, or that a 
 place, which has been passed over with negligence, has 
 been taken up again. For as to that which those malici- 
 ous men say, that men uoble (in birth and station) as- 
 sisted him, and assiduously wrote along with him, he es- 
 
teems that his greatest praise, since he pleases those, who 
 are agreeable to you all, and to the people ; whose atten- 
 tion (and assistance) in war, in peace, and in trade, every- 
 one at his own time hath possessed, without pride (being 
 shewn). Henceforward ye must not expect the argument 
 of the fable. The old men who first shall come (in the 
 Comedy) ihese will open a part (of the fable) to you. In 
 the acting they will shew a (remaining) part. Cause ye, 
 that your complaisance may increase the industry of the 
 Poet (and his efforts) to writing. 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 OF THE PHORMIO OF TERENCE. 
 
 AFTER that the old Poet cannot draw back our Poet 
 from his study (and love of writing), and give the man up 
 to idleness, he is now preparing to deter him with his 
 revilings, that he may not write. He who thus declares, 
 that the fables, which our Poet made before this, were of 
 meagre speech (and diction) and of light (and trifling) 
 writing, because he now here wrote, that he saw an in- 
 sane young man fly from a deer, and follow the dogs, and 
 that she wept, and entreated him, that he may assist her. 
 But if our Poet could understand, when his new Comedy 
 stood its ground, that it stood more by the skill of the 
 Actor, than by his own skill, he should assail (the old 
 Poet) much less boldly, than he now assails him. Now if 
 there is any one, who may say this, or think thus, " that 
 the new Poet, if the old Poet might not have attacked him 
 first, would have been able to find no prologue which he 
 might speak, unless he could have him whom he might 
 abuse;" let that man have to himself this answer; that 
 the palm of triumph is placed in the middle to all who 
 practise the Muse's art. That Poet hath eagerly tried to 
 throw back this our Poet from his study (of the Muse) 
 to starvation (and poverty); this Poet wished to answer 
 him, not to attack him. If he would have contended 
 with good words, this one would have heard him kindly : 
 
Now that which is brought against him by that other, let 
 that other think that it is carried back (and thrown back) 
 to him again. I will now make an end of my speaking 
 concerning him, when he himself, concerning makes not 
 a conclusion of committing crime. Now apply ye your 
 minds, as to what I may wish to say. I bring to you a 
 new Comedy which the Greeks call Epedicazomenon, the 
 Latins name Phormio ; because he who will act the prin- 
 cipal scenes, will be Phormio the Parasite, through whom 
 the business (of the Comedy) will be mostly carried on. 
 If your good will may have acceded to the Poet, give ye 
 your attention, with a just (and kind) disposition keeping 
 silence, lest we may experience a like fate, as we experi- 
 enced, when our company (of Actors) was driven away 
 from the place through tumult : which place the good con- 
 duct of the Actor hath restored to us, and also your assis'- 
 inggoodness reinstated, and your complaisance restored. 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 OF THE HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS OF TERENCE. 
 
 LEST it may be wonderful to any of you, why the Poet 
 may have allotted parts to an old man, which are those of 
 young men, I will mention that matter first; then I will 
 speak out that which I came to say. To-day I am about 
 to exhibit an entire Comedy called the Heautontimorume- 
 nos, translated from an entire Greek one ; which Comedy 
 has been made double, from a story simple (and single). 
 I have shewn it to be new, and of what sort it might be. 
 Now, who may have written it, and whose the Greek Co- 
 medy may be, I would mention that matter, unless I might 
 think that the greatest part of you know it (already). Now, 
 I will offer to you in a few words, on what account 1 may 
 have learnt these parts (that I fulfil). The Poet has been 
 willing that I should be his Pleader, not his Prolocutor. 
 He hath made judgment yours, and has made me his 
 Actor. But this Actor will be able to do so much from elo- 
 quence, as that man was ably conveniently to think of, who 
 
wrote this speech, which I am about to say. For as to 
 that which malicious rumours have spread abroad, that the 
 Poet mixt together Greek Comedies while he makes few 
 Latin ones, he denies not that that was done, nor is it that 
 it grieves him as to that, and he supposes that hencefor- 
 ward he shall do so (likewise). He has the example of 
 good Poets ; with which example he thinks that it is law- 
 ful to him to do that which they have done. Then as to 
 what an old malicious Poet says, that he suddenly applied 
 himself to a study of the Muse, and to a friend, relying on 
 his friend's ingenuity, not his own nature, your judge- 
 ment, your estimation will prevail (and decide). Where- 
 fore I wish you all to be implored, that my pleading may 
 not do more that is hurtful, than good. Make yourselves be 
 just, give the Poet that power of increasing, by which men 
 to be regarded give a power of making new Comedies with- 
 out faults ; let not that man think, that any thing is said 
 here in favour of him, who lately (in his writing) made 
 the people to have given way to a servant running in the 
 road. For why may the people bow down to a madman? 
 Of that writer's faults our Poet will say more things, when 
 he shall give other new Comedies, unless the man makes an 
 end to his revilings. Be present ye with a just mind : Give 
 ye the power to me, that it may be lawful to exhibit a quiet 
 (and calm) Play during silence : Let not there be always 
 a scampering servant, ari angry old man, a parasite vora- 
 cious at the same time a shameless sycophant, a pimp gree- 
 dy of lucre, constantly to be driven at an old man with the 
 loudest clamour, and the greatest effort. For my sake in- 
 cline ye your mind, (to think) that this cause is just, that 
 some part of my labour may be diminished. For those 
 who now write new Comedies, spare not the old man. If 
 any Comedy is full of bustle, it is generally run down (by 
 report) upon me : But if it is calm, it is set down to the 
 other party. In this Comedy is pure speaking (and lan- 
 guage). Try ye, what my genius can do upon either side 
 (or method). If I have never covetously fixed a price upon 
 my art, and have imagined that to be the greatest gain, to 
 serve your advantages the most I could ; institute ye an ex- 
 ample in me, that young men may study to please you ra- 
 ther than themselves. 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 OF HECYRA OF TERENCE. 
 
 THE Hecyra is the name to this fable. When this Co- 
 medy was given new, a new failing and calamity interven- 
 ed, that it may neither have been able to be seen, nor be 
 known : The people so stupid had occupied their mind 
 with eagerness in the rope-dancing. Now this fable is evi- 
 dently for a new one : And he who wrote this, on account 
 of that (aforesaid) circumstance, hath been unwilling 
 again to defer it, (wishing now) that again he may be able 
 to sell it. Ye have known his other Comedies : I beseech 
 you, know ye this Comedy (also). 
 
 ANOTHER PROLOGUE 
 
 OF THE HECYRA OF TERENCE. 
 
 I COME a pleader to you with the dress of a prologue- 
 speaker ; suffer me that 1 may be a prevailer over you by 
 entreaty ; that it may be lawful for an old man to use the 
 same right, which right I made use of when a younger 
 man, who made men fables though driven off (and rejected) 
 that they should endure, and that the writing should not 
 vanish together with the Poet. In these fables of Caecilius, 
 which first I learnt when new, partly of them I have 
 been driven off, and partly I have scarce stood my ground. 
 Because I was aware that the fortune of the stage was 
 doubtful, with uncertain hope, I have taken up a certain 
 labour to myself. I began to act the same fables, that 
 from the same author I might learn other new ones stu- 
 diously, that I might not draw him off from his desire of 
 writing. I brought about, that they should be looked at 
 (and proved) : when they were known, they were liked. 
 So I have restored the Poet into his place, when now nearly 
 removed away, and by bad treatment averse from study, 
 and from labour, and the Muse's art. But if I could have 
 spurned his writing in his presence, and could have been 
 willing to take pains in deterring him, (saying) that he 
 
should be at rest, rather than in employment ; I might 
 easily have deterred him, that he should not write other 
 fables. Now, for my sake, attend ye with complaisance, 
 as to what I may ask. I bring back the Hecyra to you, 
 which it was never suffered to me to exhibit during silence, 
 misfortune so oppressed it. That calamity your intelli- 
 gence, if it will be aiding to your industry, will calm (and 
 smooth away). When first I began to act it, the glory of 
 boxers came on, and the expectation also of a rope-dancer 
 in the same place ; a meeting together of the companies, 
 shouting, screeching of women, these caused, that I 
 should go out of doors before the proper time. I began 
 to make use of an old custom in this new Comedy, that 
 I might be in an experiment of it. I bring it back again 
 (for trial) ; I please (the people) in the first act ; when in 
 the mean time a report comes, that gladiators are given 
 to view : the people flock together. They riot, they shout, 
 they fight concerning every place. I in the mean time 
 could not keep secure my own place. Now there is no 
 disturbance: there is leisure, and silence. Time of act- 
 ing is given to me: to you is given the power of ho- 
 nouring together the plays of the stage. Be ye unwilling 
 to suffer the Muse's art through you to fall back to a few 
 Poets. Cause ye, that your authority may be favouring 
 and aiding to my authority. If I have never covetously 
 fixed a price to my art (and skill) and have imagined that 
 to be the greatest gain (namely) to serve your advantage 
 as much as possible; suffer me to obtain, that unjust men 
 may not unjustly scoff at that Poet now assailed, who hath 
 committed his science into my safe keeping, and himself 
 into your protection. For my sake receive ye his cause, 
 and give your silence, that it may be pleasant to others to 
 write, and that it may be expedient to me to learn new 
 Comedies, bought with my own cost hereafter. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Whoever reads this work without consulting the Latin 
 original, is requested to bear in mind, that the Author 
 thought it necessary to translate as literally as possible 
 without leaving out a single word in the sentences, though 
 semingly supernumerary. The difference of modes of ex- 
 pression between Latin and our stile of English composition, 
 and the necessity of adhering literally to the Latin, as 
 before mentioned, may have given an oddity and uncouth- 
 ness of stile to many sentences, which could easily have 
 been made more elegant according to modern composition, 
 were it not for this impediment. The Author however 
 hopes he has succeeded in giving a good as well as close 
 translation of the Latin. 
 
 N. B. It is requested the reader will attend to the Ar- 
 guments or Stories of these Plays, as they are Translations 
 and Abstracts from the elegant Latin of an ancient Author, 
 with one or two additional sentences. These Arguments 
 in Latin appear in an old Edition of Terence. 
 
IT 
 
 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 CHARACTERS IN THE COMEDY. 
 
 Simo, — an old gentleman, father to Pamphilus. 
 
 Sosia, — an old servant belonging to Simo. 
 
 Davus, — servant to Simo. 
 
 Mysis, — Glycerium's servant maid. 
 
 Pamphilus, — a young man, son to Simo. 
 
 Charinus, — a young man, friend and acquaintance of 
 
 Pamphilus. 
 Byrrhia, — servant to Charinus. 
 Lesbia, — an old woman, a midwife. 
 Glycerium or Pasibula, — Chremes's daughter. 
 Chr ernes, — an old gentleman father to Glycerium and 
 
 Philumena. 
 CritOy — a stranger. 
 Dromo, — Simo's servant, Jailer. 
 
 MUTE CHARACTERS. 
 
 Simo's — servants with market baskets. 
 ArchilleSy — a maid servant to Glycerium. 
 Philumena,— a daughter to Chremes is neither heard 
 nor seen. 
 
THE ARGUMENT, OR STORY OF THE ANDRIA. 
 
 CHREMESand PHANIA, Athenians, were brothers 5 
 Chremes going into Asia, left his young daughter Pasibula, 
 his only one at that time, with Phania. Wars having 
 broke out in Greece, Phania embarked on board a ship, 
 carrying the girl with him, in order to go to his brother, 
 but was shipwrecked on the island of Andros. He was 
 received hospitably there, by a certain man of Andros, and 
 shortly after died. The Andrian host, having the girHeft 
 with him, changed her name from Pasibula to that of Gly- 
 cerium, and educated her for some years along with his 
 daughter Chrysis. He also died. Chremes knew not of 
 the fate of his daughter. Chrysis being left in poverty, 
 took Glycerium with her to Athens, and having for some 
 time got her livelihood by industry of spinning wool and 
 weaving, at length became a harlot, and gained profit in 
 that way. Among the young men who attended her came 
 Pamphilus the son of Simo, a good young man, who ne- 
 glecting Chrysis, fell in love with Glycerium, a girl of chas- 
 tity, and bound himself to marry her. — She was big with 
 child by him. Chremes had another daughter, Philumena, 
 and when she was marriageable, wished to marry her to 
 Simo's son, Pamphilus. Simo and he being friends, he came 
 to Simo on that business without the knowledge of the 
 young man, and they fixed a day for the nuptials. Chry- 
 sis dies, and at the funeral, Pamphilus in Simo's presence 
 shews his love for Glycerium, when she approached too 
 near the fire, by embracing her, fondly. They both shew- 
 ed on that occasion their attachment to each other. The 
 next day Chremes came to Simo, and saying he had heard 
 that Pamphilus was warmly atttached to the stranger wo- 
 man, refused to give his daughter. The day arrived that 
 was appointed for the nuptials ; Simo pretends that the 
 nuptials are to be, in order to try the mind of his son, 
 thinking if his son should refuse, he would have real cause 
 of reproof, against him ; but if he consented, that he could 
 easily prevail on Chremes to agree to the marriage. Simo 
 at the forum orders Pamphilus to prepare himself to 
 marry that same day. The young man is in great distress 
 at this, and Davus (a crafty servant) comes to him.— Cha- 
 rinus, a young man, friend to Pamphilus was in love with 
 
XVI THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Philumena, and hearing that Pamphilus was to be married 
 to her, entreats him that he would not marry her, or at least 
 defer it for a time. Pamphilus promises that he will do all 
 in his power not to marry her. Davus desires Charinus to 
 come about the old man's friends, and hego~s for that pur- 
 pose. Davus tells Pamphilus his conjecturec about Simo's 
 deceit, and persuades him to tell his father he was ready to 
 marry her ; that there was no fear of nuptials, for that Chre- 
 mes would never consent, after having rejected the match. 
 This being done turned out differently from what they ex- 
 pected ; for Simo prevailed on Chremes to consent, and 
 Pamphilus is brought into danger of a real marriage. On 
 that very day Glycerium was brought to bed, and crafty 
 Davus, in order to prevent the nuptials, makes the maid- 
 servant lay the child before Simo's door. Chremes comes 
 and sees the child there, and understanding it was a child of 
 Pamphilus, again changes his mind from the nuptials. 
 Matters are thus confounded, and Crito, an Andrian comes, 
 who being a near relation of Chrysis, had come, toAthens, 
 to claim her property. From him Chremes finds out that 
 Glycerium is his daughter, who had when young been 
 called Pasibula. So Pamphilus is suffered to marry Gly- 
 cerium. He is to intercede with Chremes, that Charinus 
 may marry Philumena. 
 
TBRENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 (Scene— a Street in Athens — Houses, and Temples inter- 
 mixed. The back Scene shews the street continued to a 
 vast length, terminated by the Areopagus on the hill, a de- 
 tached circular edifice at a distance. In the street near 
 the Audience, but within the Curtain, is Simo's House 
 on one side, and Glycerium's on the other, with their 
 doors opposite. A large Altar is on the side scene beyond 
 and adjoining to one of these houses.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter from the back Scene SiMO, followed by SociA, and 
 two Servants with market baskets on their shoulders. 
 Simo conducts them till they come near the door of his 
 House.) 
 
 Simo. Remove ye these things within-doors. Begone. 
 (Sosia opens the door for the men 9 and they go in % and 
 Sosia is following them) Sosia, stay a while. (Sosia shuts 
 the door and comes to his master.) I want you for a few 
 words. So. Think it said ; to-wit, that these things may 
 be properly taken care of. Si. Verily a different matter. 
 So. What is there that my Art can effect for you more 
 than this ? Si. There is no need of that Art to this affair 
 which I am preparing for you, but of those faculties that 
 I always undestood to be placed in you, faithfulness and 
 secresy. So. I wait for what you may wish me to do. Si. 
 After that I bought you, you kuow that from a boy your 
 servitude with me hath always been equitable and mild ; 
 I have made you from a slave to be my freed servant, be- 
 cause you did serve me liberally. I have conferred on 
 you that which I accounted to be the highest reward. 
 So. I have it in remembrance. SL I do not alter the deed. 
 So. I rejoice, if I have done any thing for you, or ara 
 
 B 
 
z TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 doing any thing which may please you, Simo, and am 
 grateful, that it hath been agreeable in respect to you. 
 But this one thing is a matter of uneasiness to me; for this 
 putting me in mind is as it were an upbraiding of a be- 
 nefit forgotten. But say thou in one word what it is you 
 may wish me to do. Si. I will do so. In this affair I 
 premise this matter to you first ; these nuptials are not 
 real ones, which you believe them to be. So. Why do 
 you dissemble therefore ? Si, You shall hear the whole 
 affair from the beginning ; by that means you will know 
 both the way of life of my son, and my intention, and 
 what I may wish you to do in this affair. For after that 
 he advanced from boyhood, Sosia, he had the power of 
 living more freely j for before that period how could you 
 know or be acquainted with his disposition, while his 
 time of life, and fear, and a tutor prevented it? So. So it 
 is. Si. What almost all young men do, to apply their 
 mind to some pursuit, either to support horses, or dogs 
 for hunting, or to the philosophers, he was desirous of 
 none of these particularly beyond other things, and yet 
 all these matters moderately. I used to rejoice. So. Not 
 without reason ; for I am of opinion, that in life that 
 principle is excellently useful, tnat nothing should be im- 
 moderate. Si. Thus was his mode of life ; to bear with 
 all men, and tolerate them ; with whomsoever he was in 
 company, to give himself up to these ; to comply with 
 their wishes; adverse to no one, never preferring himself 
 to others. So without envy you may most readily find 
 approbation, and friends equal in estimation. So. Wisely 
 he fixed his plan of life ; for at this time complaisance 
 gets friends, and truth gets hatred. Si, In the mean time 
 a certain woman, three years ago, emigrated from Andros 
 to this neighbourhood, compelled by poverty, and the 
 neglect of her relations, of a comely form, and mature 
 age. So. Ah ! ha ! 1 fear lest the Andrian woman may 
 bring to us some calamity. Si. She at first passed her 
 life modestly, sparingly and laboriously, seeking a liveli- 
 hood with spinning wool, and weaving. But after that 
 a lover approached her, offering a price, one and also 
 another, so as the disposition of all human beings is from 
 labour prone to lust, she received the condition offered ; 
 then she begins the trade of it. Those who then loved 
 her, by chance as it so happens, conducted my son there 
 with them, that he might be in their company ; I con- 
 stantly said within myself, he is surely captivated ; (rmu 
 
TERENT1I ANDRIA. 3 
 
 ting his hand on his breast) he has the wound.* Early 
 in the morning I observed their servant-boys coming or 
 going; I used to ask, " Hark ye, boy, tell me, pray, 
 who had Chrysis yesterday ?" for that was the name to 
 that Andrian woman. So. I understand. Si, They used 
 to mention Phasdria, or Clinia, or Niceratus, for these 
 three then loved her at the same time. Well then ! what 
 has Pampilus done? What? He paid his share of the 
 reckoning. He supped there. I was rejoicing. I en- 
 quired also on another day. I found that nothing apper- 
 tained to Pamphilus. In fact truly I thought him suffici- 
 ently tried, and a great example of continence. For he 
 who has to do with dispositions of that sort, and yet his 
 mind is not shaken in that affair, you may know that he 
 is able to retain a very mode of life now his own peculiarly. 
 When that was pleasing to me, then all men with one 
 voice used to say all things that were good, and to praise 
 my good fortune, who had a son endued with such a dis- 
 position. What need is there of words? Chremes actu- 
 ated by this report, comes voluntarily to me, to give his 
 only daughter as a wife to my son with a very high por- 
 tion. If pleased me. I have made the contract. This 
 day was appointed for the marriage. So. What impedes 
 it, why it may not be real ? Si. You shall hear. Nearly 
 in the few days in which these things were settled, this 
 neighbour Chrysis died. So. O happily come to pass; 
 you have made me blessed. I had a dread of something 
 from Chrysis. Si. Then my son along with those who 
 loved Chrysis, was frequently present there together with 
 them ; took care of the funeral together with them ; sor- 
 rowful in the mean time, he sometimes wept with them ; 
 that pleased meat the time. I used to think thus; this 
 youth, by reason of a short acquaintance bears her death 
 so like a friend ; what if he himself had loved her ? What 
 will he do to me his Father? I thought that all these 
 things were the workings of a humane disposition, and a 
 feeling mind. Why do I delay with many words ? I 
 I myself also for his sake go forth to the funeral, suspect- 
 ing nothing even of mishap. So. Ah! what is it? SL 
 You shall know. She is carried out; we proceed. In 
 the mean time among the women who were there present 
 I by chance spy one young woman, with a form — So. 
 b2 
 
 * Habet, was an expression made use of by the people when a Gladi- 
 ator was wounded. 
 
4 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 Handsome perhaps. Si. And with a conutenance, Sosia, 
 so modest, so beautiful, that nothing is superior. Be- 
 cause she seemed to me then to lament beyond the rest, 
 and because she was of a form beyond the rest handsome 
 and genteel, I approach the foot-attendants ; I ask who 
 she may be ; they say that she is the sister of Chrysis. At 
 once it struck my mind ; ay, ay, this is -it ! Hence those 
 tears ! This is that regret ! So. How I fear whither you 
 may go on ! Si. In the mean time the funeral goes on, 
 we follow; we come to the sepulchre, she was placed on 
 the funeral fire; she is lamented with tears. In the mean 
 time this sister whom 1 mentioned approached the flame 
 very imprudently, with ample danger to herself; there at 
 that instant distressed Pamphilus discoveres his well dis- 
 sembled and concealed love. He runs up to her ; he em- 
 braces the woman round the middle; my Glycerium, says 
 he, what are you doing? Why do you go to destroy 
 yourself? Then she, in a way that you might easily dis- 
 cern accustomed love, threw herself back upon him, weep- 
 ing with him most familiarly. So, What do you say ? Si. 
 I return thence angry, and ill at ease concerning the mat- 
 ter. Nor was there sufficient cause to reprove him. He 
 would say, what have I done ? What have I deserved, 
 father, or as to what have I done wrong ? I prevented 
 the woman who wished to throw herself into the fire. I 
 have preserved her — The declaration is honourable. So. 
 You think rightly. For if you reprove him who hath 
 preserved life, what may you do to him who may have in- 
 flicted injury or evil ? Si. Chremes comes to me next 
 day exclaiming, an unworthy deed ! that he had found 
 Pamphilus to have this foreign woman as his wife. I 
 began to deny strenuously that being done. He insists 
 that it was done. At length I then depart from him so, 
 as refusing that he will give his daughter. So. Did not 
 you then reprove your son ? Si. Not this cause indeed 
 is powerful enough for reproving him. So. Tell me, why ? 
 Si. He can say, you yourself father, have prescribed a 
 termination to these affairs ; the time is at hand when I 
 must live in a different manner; permit ? me now in the 
 mean time to live in my own manner. So. What room 
 therefore is left of reproving him ? Si. If on account of 
 his love he may be unwilling to marry, that injury from 
 him is first to be noticed by me. And now I am endea- 
 vouring at that, by false nuptials that there may be a true 
 cause of reproving him, if he may refuse. At the same time, 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 5 
 
 if wicked Davus has any scheme, that he may wear it out, 
 now, when his deceits oppose me not — whom I do believe 
 about to do every thing, struggling with hands and feet 
 against me, more to that intent that he may incommode 
 me, than that he may accommodate my son. So. For 
 what reason ? Si. Do you ask ? Where there is an evil 
 mind, there is a bad intention. Whom indeed if I shall 
 have observed. — But what need of words ? Now if what 
 I wish may come to pass, that there be no delay in Pam- 
 philus, Chremes remains who is to be prevailed on, and 
 I hope that he will consent. Now it is your duty that 
 you feign well these nuptials; that you thoroughly terrify 
 Davus; that you observe my son, what he may be doing,, 
 and what counsel he may take with him. So. it is enough. 
 I will attend to it. Let u? go immediately now within- 
 doors. Si. Go you before, I will follow you. (Exit 
 Sosia into Simo's house) Si. (to himself) It is not doubtful 
 but my son dislikes to marry. So I perceived Davus just 
 now to dread, when he heard the nuptials were about to 
 be, — but he himself is going out of the doors there. (He 
 stands back.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Davus from Simo's house, and walks to and fro 
 at the front of the Stage, without seeing Simo.) 
 
 Davus. I was wondering if this matter should pass off 
 thus ; and was afraid how far the constant lenity of my 
 master would extend. Who after that he had heard that 
 the wife would not be given to his son, never said a word 
 to any of us, nor took it to heart. Si. (behind) But he will 
 now do so nor as I think, without great mischief to you. 
 Da. He wished to that effect, that we thus unthinking 
 may be led away by a false joy, entertaining hopes now, 
 fear being removed, in the mean time that we should be 
 caught yawning, that there might not be time for thinking 
 to the purpose of disturbing the nuptials. O cunning fel- 
 low ! Si. (loud) What does the rascal say ? Da. (looking 
 about and speaking aside) it is my master, and I had not 
 seen him before. Si. (calling out) Davus ! Da. (keeping 
 at a distance) Hah ! what is it ? Si. Here, come up to 
 me ! Da. (aside) What does he want ? (he approaches) 
 Si. What do you say ? Da. Of what affair ? Si. Do 
 you ask ? There is a rumour of the people that my son 
 is in love. Da. The people doubtless have to do with that- 
 
6 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 Si. Do you attend to this matter or not ? Da. I really 
 am minding that. Si. But that I should investigate those 
 things is the part of an unjust father. For what he did 
 before now, belongs not to me. While the time permitted 
 to that affair, I suffered him to satisfy his own mind. Now 
 this day brings on another mode of life, requires other 
 manners. Then I require, or if it is proper, I entreat 
 you, Davus, that he may return into the right way. Da. 
 What may this be? Si. All men that are in love, bear 
 it grievously that a wife should be given them. Da. (with 
 indifference) So they say. Si. Then if any one hath got 
 a wicked tutor to that business, he generally inclines his 
 weak mind to the worst side of the question. Da. I do 
 not really understand. Si. Not understand ? Heigh-day ! 
 Da. (then bowing low) I am Davus, not GEdipus. Si. 
 Well therefore, do you wish me to speak plainly the 
 things that remain to be told ? Da. Certainly indeed. 
 Si. If this day I shall have perceived you to attempt any 
 fraud in these nuptials that they may not succeed, or that 
 you wish it to be shewn in that affair how crafty you can 
 be, I will clap you into jail, Davus, cut with floggings 
 almost to death ; with that rule and sign, that if I shall 
 have taken you out thence, I will grind at the mill instead 
 of you. (a pause) What ? have you understood this ? or 
 not yet even, not this truly ? Da. Yes, cunningly; so 
 clearly having just now spoke the thing itself, you have 
 not (moving his hand circularly) used any round about. Si. 
 I can suffer myself to be cheated in any thing more 
 readily than in this. Da. Civil words, I beg there may 
 be. Si. Do you make game of me ? In that you cheat 
 me not. But I say to you, act not rashly ; and say not 
 that it was not told you before hand. Have a care. 
 
 (Exit at the lack cf the Scene.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE III. 
 
 (Davus Solus.) 
 
 Davus. Really and truly, Davus, there is no room for 
 sloth nor laziness, as far I learned just now the old 
 man's opinion concerning the nuptials, which, if they 
 are not with craftiness guarded against, will destroy me 
 or my master. Nor am I determined what I shall do. 
 May I help Pamphilus, or hearken to the old man ? If I 
 leave the one, I fear for his life, but if I assist him, the 
 menaces of the other, whom it is difficult to deceive. 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 7 
 
 He now first finds out concerning this love affair. In 
 angry hostility he restrains me from practising any de- 
 ceit in the nuptials. If he shall perceive deceit, I am 
 undone ; or if it shall be agreeable to him, he will lay 
 hold of a cause, by which right and wrong, he will cast 
 me headlong into prison. To these evils this one also 
 is added to me. This Andrian Girl, whether she is a 
 wife or a mistress, is big with child from Pamphilus. 
 And it is worth while to hear the audacity of them, 
 for it is an undertaking of crazy people, not of lovers. 
 They fixed to acknowledge, whatever she might have 
 brought forth. And they feign now a certain false story 
 among them, that she is an Attic Citizen (he tells the story 
 slowly,) There was formerly a certain merchant, an old man. 
 He suffered shipwreck at the Island Andros. He underwent 
 death. That the father of Chrysis there received this girl at 
 that time, cast out, an orphan, and young. Mere fables ! 
 To me indeed the thing in truth is not made out probable. 
 However the story pleases themselves. (He looks at Glyceric 
 urn's door.) But Mysis is going out from her. However I 
 will betake myself hence to the Forum, that I may meet 
 Pamphilus, lest his father may bear him down concerning 
 this affair, while he is unexpecting. 
 
 (Exit Davus at the back Scene.) 
 
 ACT. I. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Mysis from Gly cerium's house— The Door is 
 held open, and she speaks to the maid servant within.) 
 
 My. I heard you long ago, Archill is ; you order that 
 Lesbia be brought here. Now really she is a drunken 
 old woman, and a rash one ; nor sufficiently worthy to 
 whom you may commit a woman in her first labour. — 
 Nevertheless 1 will bring her here. (She advances to the 
 front and the door is shut.) Behold ye the importunity of 
 the old woman, because she's her pot companion. Gods, 
 I P ra ) r » g ive m y mistress the facility of bringing forth, and 
 to the other, room for bungling rather upon others. (She 
 looks towards the back Scene) But why do I see Pamphilus 
 greatly distressed ? I dread what it can be. I will wait 
 here that I may now know what sorrow this perturbation 
 may bring. (She goes on one side) 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA, 
 
 ACT. I. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Pamphilus hastily from the back Scene, and advances 
 to the front.) 
 
 Pamphilus. Is this a humane deed or attempt, is this the 
 part of a father? My. {behind) What is that? Pam.Ol 
 faith of Gods and Men ! What is it, if thisis not bad as age ? 
 He had deceed that he would give me a wife this very 
 day ; behoved it not that I should have known it before- 
 hand ? Behoved it him not to communicate it before? 
 My. Wretched me ! what word do I hear ? Pam. W 7 hat 
 hath Chremes done ? Who had refused to give up his 
 daughter to me as a wife. He changed that, because he 
 sees me unchanged. Does he strive so obstinately, that he 
 may drag me wretched from Glycerium ? Which if it is 
 done, I am lost totally. Oh ! that any man is so unlucky, 
 or unhappy as I am ! O faith of Gods and Men ! Shall I 
 be able by no method to avoid the alliance of Chermes ? In 
 how many ways I have been contemned, spurned 
 at! Ah! rejected, I am sought again ! Wherefore? 
 unless it be that which I suspect, they are feeding 
 up some Monster ; because she can be thrust upon no one, 
 they come upon me. My. {behind) This speech has op- 
 pressed with terror miserable me. Pam. For what shall 
 I say concerning my father ? Ah ! so great an affair to 
 transact so carelessly. Passing me by just now at the 
 Forum, Pamphilus, says he, you are to marry a wife to- 
 day > prepare yourself; go away home. He seemed to 
 to say to me that word, Go spedily and hang yourself.— 
 I was stupified. Do you think that I was able to speak 
 any word, or say any reason, foolish even, false and wrong? 
 I was dumb. But if I had known it before-hand, if any 
 one now may ask me what I would do, I would do 
 an y thing that I may not do this. But now what shall 
 I set about first ? So many cares impede me which drag 
 my mind in different directions. Love and pity of her, 
 the solicitation of the nuptials ; and then the reverence 
 of my father, who hath suffered me till now with such 
 lenity to do whatever was pleasing to my mind ; that I 
 should stand in opposition to him ! Alas me ! I am un- 
 determined whatl shall do. My. {behind) I wretched fear 
 how this uncertain matter may fall out ; but now there 
 is great need either that he should speak with herself, 
 or that I should say something about her before him. 
 While my mind is in doubt, in an instant from one 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. i) 
 
 thing to another it is impelled. Pam. Who is speaking 
 here ? (turns about) Mysis, your servant ! My. O Pam- 
 philus, your servant ! Pam. How does she do ? My. Do 
 you ask ? She is labouring under pain. And wretched 
 she is in tronble from this particular, that formerly the 
 nuptials were fixed upon this day — but then she fears 
 this, lest you may forsake her. Pam. Ah ! can I attempt 
 this ? Shall I suffer her miserable to be deceived on ac- 
 count of me ? Who hath trusted her heart and all her 
 life to me ? Whom I have had for a wife, particularly dear 
 to my mind ? Shall I suffer her mind well and modestly 
 instructed and brought up, now compelled by poverty to 
 be altered ? I will not do it. My. I fear not if it is put 
 in your power alone, but how may you bear compulsion ? 
 Pam. Do you think me so cowardly moreover so ungrate- 
 ful, or inhuman, or savage, that neither habit, nor love, 
 nor shame may move me, nor admonish me, that I may 
 keep my faith ? My. This one thing I know, that she has 
 deserved that you should be mindful of her. Pam. Be 
 mindful of her? O Mysis, Mysis, even now those words 
 of Chrysis concerning Glycerium are written in my mind. 
 Now almost dying she calls me — I approched — ye were re- 
 moved — we were alone She begins — "O myPamphilus, 
 you see her beauty and time of life, nor is it unknown to 
 you how useless each of these may be to her now both to 
 preserve her modesty, and her provision of a maintenance. 
 But I entreat you by this right hand and your good dis- 
 position, by your faith and the loneliness of her I ad- 
 jure you, that you separate her not from you, and that 
 you forsake her not. If I have loved you in the way of a 
 real brother, or if she has always held you alone in great- 
 est regard, or if she has been complying with you in all 
 affairs, I give you to her as a husband, friend, defender, 
 father. I commit to you this my good and great care, 
 and recommend her to your trust. She gives her into 
 my hand i "death immediately seizes herself— I accept- 
 ed her — (Speaking loud with energy) Accepted as she is, 
 (striking his breast) I will preserve her. My. So I hope 
 indeed. Pam. But why are you absent from her ? My. 
 I am calling the Midwife. Pam. Hasten then (as she is 
 going away he call to her) And do you hear ? Have a 
 care against saying one word about the nuptials ; not even 
 this at an extremity • My. I understand that. (Exit 
 Mysis at the side Scene) (Exit Pamphilus into Simo'shause.) 
 
 END OF THE FIRST ACT. 
 
10 TERENTII ANBIUA* 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Charinus ./row the back Scene, followed by Byrk- 
 hia his servant,) ' 
 
 Charinns. What are you saying, Byrrhia ? is she given 
 to Pamphilus in marriage to-day r* Byr. So it is. Cha. 
 How do you know? Byr, At the forum just now I 
 heard it from Davus. Cha. Woe to miserable me ! As 
 my mind always before this has been kept in hope and in 
 fear, so after hope is taken away, fatigued and worn out 
 with care it is stupified. (Pamphilus comes out of Simo's 
 house j and stands in meditation near the door.) Byr. I 
 beseech you verily, Charinus, since that which you wish 
 for cannot be done, you may wish for that which can be 
 done. Cha. I wish for nothing else but Philumena. Byr. 
 Ah ! how much better it is, that you may attend to that 
 matter, how you may remove that love out of your mind, 
 than to speak of that, by which your desire may be the 
 more inflamed. Cha. Easily we all, when we are well, 
 give right counsels to those sick with disease. If you 
 were (putting his hand to his heart) in this situation, you 
 may feel otherwise. Byr. Well, well, as it pleases you, 
 Cha. {looking towards Simo's house) But I see Pamphilus. 
 I am resolved to try all things before that I perish. Byr. 
 {looking round) What is he doing here ? Cha. I will en- 
 treat himself; I will supplicate him ; I will tell him of my 
 love; I believe I shall obtain that he may prolong for 
 some days at least the nuptials. In the mean time some- 
 thing will be done, I hope. Byr. That something is 
 nothing. Cha. Byrrhia, what seems to you best ? Am I 
 to go up to him ? Byr. Why not? if you obtain nothing, 
 that he may think you are ready as his adulterer, if 
 he shall have married her. Cha. Go hence and be hanged 
 with that suspicion, you rascal. Pam. (looking towards 
 them) I see Charinus. (goes up to him) Your servant \ 
 Cha. O your servant, Pamphilus ! I come to you requir- 
 ing hope, health, assistance, and advice. Pam. Truly I 
 have neither situation for advising, nor power of assist- 
 ance. But what is that matter? Cha. Do you marry to- 
 day? Pam. They say so. Cha. Pamphilus, if you do 
 that, you see me to-day for the last time. Pam. Why so ? 
 Cha. Alas me ! I fear" to say. Say it to him, Byrrhia, 
 I request. Byr. I will say it. Pam. What is it ? Byr. 
 Your spouse he is in love with. Pam. Truly he does not 
 join in sentiment with me. Come tell me, Charinus, had 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 11 
 
 you any more agreement with her ? Cha. Ah ! Pamphi- 
 lus, none. Pam. How I would wish ! — Cha. Now I be- 
 seech you by friendship and by love, in the first place 
 that you may not marry her. Pam. I will endeavour so 
 indeed. Cha. But if you cannot do that, or these nup- 
 tials are pleasant to you. — Pam. Pleasant to me ! Cha. 
 At least defer them some days, while I go somewhere that 
 I may not see them. Pam. Hear me now instantly. I 
 think, Charinus, that it is by no means the duty of an 
 ingenuous man to require, that when he may deserve 
 nothing, that should be attributed to him as a favor. I 
 had rather avoid those nuptials, more than you would 
 wish to obtain them. Cha. You have restored my cour- 
 age. Pam. Now if you can do any thing, either you or 
 this Byrrhia, do ye, feign ye, invent, and effect that she 
 may be given to you ; I will mind that matter, how she 
 may not be given to me. Cha. 1 am satisfied. Pam. 
 (looking back) I see Davus in excellent time; I rely on 
 his advice. Cha. (to Byrrhia) But you in truth cannot 
 tell me any thing, unless those things which there is no 
 need should be known. Fly hence ! Byr. I will fly 
 verily, and that with pleasure. 
 
 Exit Byrrhia at the side Scene. 
 (Pamphilus and Charinus go aside together.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Davus in haste from the bach Scene.) 
 JDavus. O ye gracious gods, what good news I am 
 carrying ! But where shall I find Pamphilus, that I may 
 take away the fear that he now is in, and fill his mind 
 with joy ? Cha. He is joyful I know not why. Pam. 
 It is nothing ; he has not yet found out these misfortunes, 
 Dav. Whom I do now believe, if he may have heard of 
 nuptials now prepared for him. Cha. Do you hear him ? 
 Dav. to be seeking me, saddly distressed, over the whole 
 town. But where shall I seek him ? Or where shall I 
 now first go? Cha. Do you delay to speak to him ? Dav. 
 I am off. (as he is crossing, Pamphilus calls out) Pam. 
 Davus ! home hither ? Stop ! Dav. (turning about) Who 
 is the man that calls i me O Pamphilus I am seeking 
 you yourself. Well met, Charinus ! both opportunely ! 
 I want you both (he gets between them both.) Cha. I am 
 undone, Davus. Dav. Bui hear you this. Pam. I am 
 destroyed. Dav. I know what you are afraid of. Cha. 
 
12 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 My life yerily and truly is in danger certainly. Dav. 1 
 also know what you are at. Pam. The nuptials against 
 me. Dav. And I know that. Pam. This very day. 
 Dav. [stunned at their quick talking, stamps with his foot) 
 You knock me down, but however I understand, [to Cha- 
 rinus) You fear that you may not marry her ; [to Pamphi- 
 lus) but you fear that you must marry her. Cha. You 
 have the matter. Pam. That very thing. Dav. But as to 
 that very thing, there is no danger. (He holds up his 
 head and puts his Jists on his sides) See me here. Pam* 
 I beseech you, as soon as possible deliver wretched me 
 from this terror. Dav. Well ! I do deliver yon. Chre- 
 mes does not now give you a wife. Pam. How do you 
 know ? Dav. I do know. Your father takes me just 
 now 5 he says that he gives you a wife to-day : also many 
 other things, which there is no occasion of telling now ;, 
 immediately hastening to you I run to the forum, that I 
 may tell you these things ; when I do not find you there, 
 I ascend to a very high place ; I look round ; you are no 
 where. By chance I see there his servant Byrrhia. 1 ask. 
 him. He denies that he has seen you. That is unpleas- 
 ant to me. I think what I shall do. In the meantime 
 a suspicion from the thing itself occurs to me returning. 
 Ah! ha! little provision ! He himself sorrowful ! Sud- 
 den nuptials ! Things do not cohere. Pam. How so ? 
 Dav. I go to Chremes. When I come there, there is- 
 solitude before the door. I rejoice now at that. Pam. 
 You say rightly. Go on. Dav. I wait there. In the 
 meantime I see no one go in, no one go out, no matron - T 
 in the house, no ornamenting, no bustle ; I approached ; 
 I looked inside. Pam. I know, it is an important sign. 
 Dav. do these things seem to agree with nuptials ? Pam. 
 I think not, Davus. Dav. I think, do you say ? You 
 do not take it rightly. The thing is certain. Even go- 
 ing from thence I met Chremes's boy, carrying pot herbs 
 and small little fishes, a farthing's worth, to supper for 
 the old uian. Pam. I am delivered to-day by your at- 
 tention, Davus. Dav. But I did nothing. Cka. How 
 do you say then ? You mean, he does not altogether 
 give her to him. Dav. [putting his hand on Charinuis 
 head) A siily head ! As if it were necessary, that you 
 are to marry her, as you think, if he does not give her 
 to him. You do nothing unless you see to the matter, 
 unless you entreat, and come about the friends of the old 
 man. Cha. You advise well j I will go j though truly 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 13 
 
 now this hope has often disappointed me. Farewell ! 
 
 (Exit Charinus at the back Scene.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE III. 
 
 (Manent Pamphlus and Davus.) 
 
 Pamphilus. What therefore does my father wish to him- 
 self? Why is he dissembling? Dav. I will tell you. 
 If he is angry at that now, because Chremes does not 
 give you the wife, he may seem to himself to be doing 
 wrong, nor that without reason, before that he has found 
 out your inclination, how it may bear itself towards the 
 nuptials. But if you shall have refused to marry her, 
 there he will transfer the fault to you. Then all troubles 
 of that sort will happen. Pam. I will suffer any thing. 
 Dav. He is your father, Pamphilus, it is difficult. Then 
 this woman is lonely and unprotected. He will find 
 something said or done, some cause wherefore he may 
 expel her from the town. Pam. (in surprise) May ex- 
 pel her? Dav. Quickly. Pam. Tell me therefore, 
 Davus, what I shall do ? Dav. Say that you are ready 
 to marry. Pam. Ah ! Dav. What is it ? Pam. Shall I 
 say so ? Dav. Why not ? Pam. I will never do it. Dav. 
 Do not refuse this. Pam. Wish not to persuade me. 
 Dav. From that affair see what may happen. Pam. That 
 1 shall be shut out from her, and shut up with this one. 
 Dav. It is not so. For I think that your father will say 
 this to you thus ; I am willing that you may marry a 
 wife to-day. You shall say, I will marry her. Tell me 
 what squabble will he make with you ? Here you will 
 render all the schemes which he has now determined on, 
 to be uncertain, and without any danger to yourself. For 
 this is not doubtful but Chremes refuses his daughter to 
 you. Nor may you for that reason fall short of what you 
 are about, for fear he may change his mind. Say to your 
 father that you are willing; that when he may wish it, he 
 cannot by right be angry with you. For as to what you 
 may expect, I will easily drive off that ; no one will give 
 a wife to these ways of life. He will find a poor person 
 rather than he may suffer you to be bad. But if he shall 
 find you to bear it with indifference, you will have made 
 him negligent. At his leisure he will seek for another 
 wife. In the mean time something of advantage will have 
 happened. Pam. Do you believe so ? Dav* That matter 
 indeed is not doubtful. Pam. Take care where you may 
 
14* TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 lead me. Dav. Do but be silent. Pam. I will say it 5 
 but I must have caution, lest he find out that I have a 
 child by her. For I promised that I would acknowlege 
 it. Dav. O a bold deed ! Pain. She entreated me that 
 I would promise this to her, by which she might know 
 that I was not about to desert her. Dav. It shall be 
 minded (looking back). But your father is here; guard 
 against his perceiving you sorrowful. (Pamphilus and 
 Dams step aside.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Si mo from the back Scene.) 
 
 Simo. I come back to see, what they may be doing, or 
 what counsel they may be taking. Dav. (behind) He 
 now does not doubt but you may refuse to marry. He 
 comes meditating from a lonely place somewhere ; he 
 hopes that he has found a speech that may distract you, 
 therefore do you take care to be master of yourself. — 
 Pam. (sighing) As far as I can, Davus. Dav. I say, believe 
 me as to this, Pamphilus, that your father will never 
 this day exchange one word with you, if you will say 
 that you will marry. 
 
 ACT. II. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Byrrhia from the back Scene, behind them.) 
 Byrrhia. My master ordered me, all affairs neglected, 
 to observe Pamphilus to-day, that I might know what he 
 was doing about the nuptials ; on that account I follow 
 him now coming here. There I see him near at hand 
 along with Davus. I will mind this matter. Si. (seeing 
 Pamphilus and Davus) I see that each of them is 
 present here. Dav, (to Pamphilus) Ha ! ha ! take care 
 of yourself. Si. (calling out) Pamphilus. Dav. (aside to 
 Pamphilus) Look back at him as if not expecting it. Pam. 
 (turning about) Oh ! my Father ! Dav. (clapping him on 
 the back secretly) Finely done ! Si. I am willing that you 
 marry a wife to-day, as I told you. Byr. (behind) Now 
 I fear for my party what he may answer. Pam. (boxmng 
 to his father) Neither in that nor in any other way will 
 there be in me a delay to you any where. Byr. (behind) 
 Ah ! ha ! Dav. (aside to Pamphilus) He is dumb. Byr. 
 (behind) what said he? Si. (to Pamphilus) You do as 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 15 
 
 becomes you, when I obtain with compliance that which I 
 require. Dav. (aside to Pamphilus) Am I true ? Byr. (be- 
 hind) My Master, as far as I hear, has lost a wife. — 
 Si. (to Pamphilus) Go now immediately within-doors, 
 lest you may be delaying, when there be need of you. 
 — Pam. I go. (Exit Pamphilus into Sitno's house.) Byr. 
 —(behind) Strange that in nothing is there reliance 
 to be on any man ! That is a true word which is 
 used to be commonly said, that all men wish better to 
 themselves, than to another. (The three next lines are 
 omitted in acting the play) I will carry back word to my 
 master, that he may return evil for this evil reported to 
 me. — (Exit Byrrhia at the back Scene) 
 
 ACT. II. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Manent Simo and Davus.) 
 
 Davus. He now believes that I am carrying some deceit 
 against him, and that I remained here for that purpose. — 
 Si. What is Davus speaking of? Dav. Any thing equally 
 now indeed. Si. What nothing ? Oh ! ho ! Dav. — No- 
 thing altogether. Si. But I was waiting indeed for 
 something. Dav. (aside) It has happened beyond his 
 expectation, I perceive. This vexes the man. Si. Can 
 you possibly tell me truth ? Dav. Nothing easier. Si. 
 Whether are these nuptials any way disagreeable to him, 
 on account of his consorting with this foreign women? — 
 Dav. Not at all really ; or if so, this uneasiness is only of 
 two or three days continuance. Have you noticed it ? 
 then it will cease. For he hath thought of that matter 
 in the right way. Si. I approve of that. Dav. While it 
 was lawful for him, and his age permitted him, he was in 
 love ; but that at the time secretly. He took care that 
 that affair shonld never be a disgrace to him, as becomes 
 a firm-minded man. Now there is need of a wife, he hath 
 given up his mind to a wife. Si. He seemed to me to be a 
 little sad in some small degree. Dav. It is nothing about 
 this affair, but it is that he is angry with you. Si. What is 
 it? Dav. Its a trifling thing. Si. What is it? Dav. 
 Nothing. St. But say what is it. Dav. He says that you 
 supply money too stingily. Si. What I ? Dav. Yes you. 
 — He says the victuals scarcely costs ten shillings. Whe- 
 ther, says he, does he seem to give a wife to his son ? 
 Whom, he says, shall I invite to supper of my equals, par- 
 ticularly now? And really what must be told here, you 
 
16 TERENTII ANDHIA, 
 
 indeed have allowed too stingily. I d'ontlike it. Si. (an= 
 gry) Hold you prating, Dav. (aside J I have set him 
 fidgeting. Si. I will see that those things be clone rightly. 
 — (Exit Davus into Simo's house) Si. (talking to himself) 
 What is this about ? What does this old offender want 
 for himself? For if there is any mischief in this place, 
 (shakes his stick) Ah ! there is the Ringleader to this affair. 
 (Exit into his house) 
 
 END OF THE SECOND ACT. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter from the side MYSisarcd Lesbia, the latter a hobbling 
 old woman with a stick — They stop near Glycerium's 
 door.) 
 
 My sis. The thing truly is indeed so as you said, Lesbia; 
 You may not find almost, a man faithful to a woman — 
 (Enter Simo followed by Davus from Simo's house ; they 
 stop near his door) Si. (to Davus) From the Andrian 
 woman this maid-servant is, [what are you saying ? Dav. 
 it is so. Mys. (to Lesbia) But this Pamphilus — Si. What 
 is she saying ? Mys. confirmed his faith. Si. Ah ! ha ! 
 Dav. (aside) I wish either he were deaf, or she was made 
 dumb ! Mys. (to Lesbia) For what she had brought forth 
 he ordered to be taken care of. Si. Oh Jupiter i What 
 I do hear ? it is done, if indeed she proclaims the truth. — 
 Les. (to My sis) you speak of a fine disposition of the 
 young man. Mys. (to Lesbia) Excellent ! but follow me 
 within-doors, lest you should be late for her. Les. I 
 follow. (Exeunt Mysis and Lesbia into Glycerium's house) 
 Dav. (aside) What remedy shall I find now for this mishap? 
 Si. What's this ? is he so mad ? out of a foreign woman ? 
 Now I know. Ah ! scarce at length I have perceived 
 the thing, fool that I was. Dav. (aside) what does he say 
 that he was perceived ? Si. This trick is now first put upon 
 me by him, They pretend that she is now bringing 
 forth, in order that they may frighten off Chremes.— 
 (Glycerium cries out in labour within the house) Gly. 
 (screeching) Juno Lucina, aid me, preserve me, I beseech 
 you Oh ! Si. Heigh-day ! so soon ? Ridiculous ! After 
 that she heard that I was standing before the door, she 
 hastened the matter. These things, Davus, are not divid- 
 ed commodiously enough in your times. Dav. my times? 
 Si. are your scholars forgetful ? Dav. I Know not, what 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 17 
 
 you can be talking of. Si, (aside) This man, if he had 
 assailed me in a real marriage, when unprepared, what 
 deceits he would give forth against me ! Now it is done 
 at his peril — I am sailing in a smooth harbour. 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Lesbia from Glycerium's house, and the door 
 being kept open, talks to the maidservant within, lean- 
 ing on her stick.) 
 
 Lesbia. As yet, Archil lis, I see that she has all the 
 signs that are usual, and which it is proper she should 
 have to her safety. Now first make her be washed ; 
 then afterwards give her to drink what I ordered you to 
 give her, and as much as I commanded. By and by I 
 return again hither. (The door is shut, and she hobbles to 
 the front) By my stars a fine boy is born to Pamphilus. 
 I pray the Gods he may live, forasmuch as he himself is 
 of a good disposition, and since he feared to do any wrong 
 to this excellent young woman ! (She hobbles down the 
 stage, and exit at a side scene.) Si. (to Davus) Now who 
 may not believe, who may have known you, that this mat- 
 ter arose from you ? Dav. What is that matter ? Si. 
 She did not command what was necessary to be done for 
 the lying-in woman in her presence, but after she went out 
 from the street cries out from the street to those women who 
 are within. O Davus, am I thus held in contempt by thee? 
 Or at length do I seem to you thus a fit man whom so 
 openly you may begin to cheat with your tricks ? At least 
 it might have been done cleverly, that I may seem to be 
 feared certainly, if I shall have got to know it ? Dav. 
 (aside) Surely and truly now he himself deceives himself, 
 not I. Si, Have not I spoke out to you ? warned you 
 that you should not do it ? Whether have you dreaded 
 me? what use was it? Do I believe you as to this, that 
 this woman has now lain in from Pamphilus? Dav, 
 (aside) I know how he can be wrong, and I am fixed 
 what I shall do. Si, Why are you silent ? Dav, (to Simo) 
 How may you believe it? as if these things were not told 
 you, that they would be so ? Si, Hath any one told it 
 me ? Dav. Oh ! ho ! what have you yourself understood 
 that this was pretended 1 Si. I am laughed at here. Dav, 
 It was told you, for how hath that suspicion come upon 
 you ? Si, How ? because I had known you. Dav. As 
 c 
 
18 TERENTII ANURIA. 
 
 if you may say, that that was done by my advice? Si. 
 Why I certainly know it. Dav. You have not even suffi- 
 ciently known me, what sort of man I may be, Simo. 
 Si. Have not I known you? Dav. But if I began to tell 
 any thing, immediately you think that you are cheated. 
 Si. You say falsely. Dav. And so truly I do not dare 
 now to mutter. Si. This one thing I know, that no 
 woman hath$ lain in here. Dav. You [have understood 
 this, have ye ? But nevertheless they will bring the child 
 hither by and by before the door. I tell you, Master, 
 now at this time, that that is about to be, that you may 
 be aware, lest you may say this to me afterwards, that it 
 was done by the advice or tricks of Davus. I choose that 
 this opinion of yours be totally removed away from me. 
 Si. Whence do you know that? Dav. I have heard it 
 and believe it. Many things concur also by which I now 
 make this conjecture. Now in the first place she said that 
 she was big with child from Pamphilus. It was found to 
 be false. Now after she sees that nuptials are in readi- 
 ness at home, a maid-servant was sent instantly to call 
 the midwife to her, that she might bring the child to her 
 at the same time. Unless this happens, that you may 
 see the child, the nuptials are not disturbed. Si. What 
 do you say? When you understood that they took 
 that counsel, why told you not that immediately to Pam- 
 philus? Dav. Who therefore drew him off from her, 
 but I ? for we all know indeed how miserably he hath 
 loved her. Now he desires a wife for himself. Lastly, 
 commit that business to me. But persist }^ou the same to 
 make up these nuptials, so as you are doing, and I hope 
 {lifting up his hands) that the gods are about to assist it. 
 Si. Well now go away within-doors, there wait for me, 
 and prepare what is necessary to be prepaped. {Exit Da- 
 vus into Simo's house) Si. (talking to himself) He has not 
 impelled me now wholly to believe these things. And I 
 know not whether or no all things that he said, may be 
 true. But I hold it of little consequence: that which my 
 son himself promised me, is much the greatest matter to 
 me. Now I will meet Chremes; I will beseech him to 
 give the wife to my Son. If I obtain that, what may I 
 choose other than these nuptials to happen this very day. 
 For what my son promised, it is not doubtful to me, if 
 he be unwilling, but I can deservedly compel him ; and 
 so, behold the man himself meeting me in the very time. 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 19 
 
 ACT III. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Chremes from the back Scene, and aivances tip the 
 street towards Simo.) 
 
 Simo. I salute Chremes. Chr. Oh ! I was ^eekin^ you 
 yourself. St. And I you. Chr. You come des : redly. 
 Some men came to me, who said that they beard it from 
 you, that my daughter will this day marry your son. I 
 come to see that matter, whether you or fiey may be 
 mad. Si. Listen to a few things, and yju will know 
 what I may wish of you, and what you are enquiring 
 about. Chr. I listen, speak what you may wish to say. 
 Si. By the gods I beseech you and yoar friendship, 
 Chremes, which begun from boys, increased along with 
 our age, and by your only daughter and my son, of pre- 
 serving whom the chief power is given you, that you may 
 assist me in this affair, and in such a way, that as the 
 nuptials had been fixed for a future time, so they may 
 now happen. Chr. Ah ! do not entreat me ; as if it may 
 behove you to obtain this from me by entroating. Do 
 you think me now to be different, from formerly, when I 
 was given her? If it is advantageous to each that these 
 things may be, then order her to be called. But if there 
 is more of evil from that affair, than of good to each, I 
 beg it of you that you may counsel for the common good, 
 as if she may be yours, and I may be the father of Pam- 
 philus. Si. Really I wish so, and require it may be so, 
 Chremes. Nor can I require it from you, unless the thing 
 itself may counsel it. Chr. What is it ? Si. There are 
 quarrels between Glycerium and my son. Chr. I hear 
 you. Si. So great that I may hope that they can be se- 
 parated. Chr. Idle tales ! Si. Really it is so. Chr. So 
 indeed as I will tell you ; where there are quarrels of 
 lovers, there is a renewal of love. Si. Ha ! I entreat it 
 of you, that we may prevent them, while time is given 
 us, and while his desire is shut up by bad usage, before 
 that the wicked ways of these women, and tears feigned 
 with deceit bring back his afflicted mind to compassion, 
 let us give him the wife. 1 am in hopes, Chremes, that 
 he, by consorting with her and bound by liberal wedlock, 
 is then about to emerge easily from those evils. Chr. So 
 this matter appears to you ; but I do not think that it can 
 be, nor thai he wil! perpetually have her, nor that I 
 c2 
 
20 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 can bear with it. Si. How therefore do you know that, 
 unless you shall have made the trial ? Chr. But that that 
 trial be made upon my daughter, is a grievous thing. Si* 
 Why the inconvenience lastly all comes back to this; if 
 it may happen, which may the gods prohibit, there is a 
 separation ; but if the matter be set right, see how many 
 advantages there are; in the first place you will have re- 
 stored a son to your friend; you will find a steady son-in- 
 law to yourself, and husband of your daughter. Chr. 
 Why do you speak in that way ? if you have so fixed your 
 mind, that that is a useful thing to you, I am unwilling 
 that any advantage to you be shut up in me. Si. Deserv- 
 edly I always held you of greatest value, Chremes. Chr. 
 But what do you say? Si. What? Chr. How do you 
 know that they now are quarreling between themselves ? 
 Si. Davus himself, who is intimate with their counsels, 
 told it me. And he persuades me to bring the nuptials to 
 maturity as fast as I can. Whether do you think he 
 would do that, unless he knew that my son wished those 
 things ? Therefore now you yourself shall hear his words. 
 What ! ho ! (going to the door of his house) call out Da- 
 vus hither 1 {the door opens and Davus appears) And be- 
 hold him ! I see that he is going out of doors. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE IV. 
 
 {Enter Davus from Simo's house.) 
 
 Davus. I was going to you. Si. What is it ? Dav. 
 Why is not the wife calltd ? it now is towards evening. 
 Si. (to Chremes) do you hear him? (to Davus) I for a lit- 
 tle time past, somewhat feared from you, Davus, lest you 
 should do the same that the low class of servants is used 
 to do, that you should deceive me with false tricks, be- 
 cause that my son is in love. Dav. Would I do that ? 
 Si. I have believed it ; and therefore fearing that, I have 
 concealed from you all, what I will now tell you. Dav. 
 What? Si You shall know. For now I nearly have trust 
 in you. Dav. at length you have grown acquainted, what 
 sort of person I may be. 'Si. The nuptials had not been 
 really fixed to be. Dav. What? not? Si. But I pre- 
 tended them for that reason that I might try you all. 
 Dav. What say you? Si. So the affair is. Dav. See 
 now, I never have been able to understand that matter. 
 Ah ! hah I A cunning scheme ! Bu Hear you this. 
 
TERENTH ANDRIA. 21 
 
 As soon as I ordered you hence to go within the house, 
 this man opportunely meets me. Dav. (aside) Oh ! are 
 we lost or not ? Si. I tell to him the things that you told 
 me a while ago. Dav. (aside) What do I hear? Si. I 
 entreat him to give his daughter, and obtain it by entreaty 
 with some difficulty. Dav. {aside) Fallen I am. Si. 
 Heigh ! what have you said ? Dav., Finely I say, done. 
 Si. Now there is no delay through him. Chr. 1 will just 
 now go home ; I will tell them to be prepared; and I 
 bring back word hither. (Exit Chremes at the back scene.) 
 Si. Now I implore you, Dav us, because you alone have 
 brought to effect these nuptials. Dav. (looking down 
 and sighing) I alone truly. Si. Endeavour moreover to 
 correct my son. Dav. I will do it indeed diligently. Si. 
 You are able now while his mind is irritated against her. 
 Dav. Be at rest. Si* Well therefore, where is he him- 
 self now ? Dav. It is wonderful if he is not at home. 
 Si. I will go to him, and these same things that I have 
 said to you, I will say exactly to him. [Exit Simo into his 
 house.) Dav. ( talking to himself) I am a gone man. What 
 reason is there, but I must go to prison hence by the di- 
 rect way. There is no room left For supplication ; now 
 I have thrown all things into confusion. I have deceived 
 my master. I have cast into a marriage my master's son. 
 I have managed that the nuptials should be this day, 
 Pamphilus not expecting this matter, and being unwilling. 
 Ah ! the crafty schemes ! but if I had been quiet, no 
 misfortune would have come to pass ! (Simo's door opens) 
 But behold him ! 1 see him himself there ! I am un- 
 done ! I wish I had some place here, where I might now 
 throw myself headlong. (He gets close to the door opposite 
 Simo's.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Pamphilus from Simo's house in great agitation. 
 
 Pamphilus. W r here is the villain there who has des- 
 troyed me ? Dav. (aside) I am gone. Pam. And 1 con- 
 fess that this has rightly happened to me, forasmuch as I 
 am so inactive, so incapable of counsel, that I should 
 have committed my fortunes to a silly servant ? There- 
 fore I have my reward on account of my folly. But he 
 shall never carry it off unpunished. Dav. (aside) I know 
 pretty well, that I shall be safe hereafter, if I escape now 
 
22 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 from this calamity. Pam. For what shall I say now to 
 my father? I shall deny that I am willing, who just now 
 promised to marry ? With what confidence may I dare 
 to do that? nor do I know what I shall uow do with re- 
 gard to myself. Dav. (aside) Nor I with regard to my- 
 self truly, and yet I do the work diligently. I will say 
 that I am about to find out something instantly that I may 
 produce some delay to this calamity. Pam. (turning about 
 and seeing Davits) Oh ! there you are ! Dav. (aside) I 
 am seen. Pam. Harkye here, O my good man, what do 
 you say ? Do you see that I am by your counsels wretched 
 and entangled ? Dav. (to Pamphilus) But I will now de- 
 liver you. Pam. You will deliver me ? Dav. Certainly, 
 Pamphilus. Pam. That is as you have done awhile ago. 
 Dav. Verily better, I hope. Pam. Oh ! what that I 
 should trust to you, you hangman ? Can you make sound 
 my embarrassed and lost condition ? What, you on 
 whom I may rely ? Who this day from a most tranquil 
 state hast cast me into nuptials. Whether have I not said 
 that this would be ? Dav. (sighing) You said so. Pam. 
 What have you deserved? Dav. The Gibbet. But suf- 
 fer me to come a little to myself. J will instantly look to 
 something. Pam. Alas me ! when I have not time to un- 
 dertake the punishment of you as I wish. For this time 
 permits me only to take precautions for myself, not to 
 punUh you. 
 
 (Exeunt into Simo's house. 
 
 EN:; OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Charinus walking from the back scene.) 
 
 Charinus. Is this to be believed or to be related, that 
 so great a depravity should be innate to any one that they 
 can rejoice in misfortunes, and gain their own advantages 
 from the distresses of another ! Ah ! is that a true thing? 
 Verily that sort of men is most vile, to whom there is 
 only for a while a modesty in refusing; afterwards, 
 when now is the time that their promises be fulfilled, then 
 when forced to it, they necessarily discover themselves, 
 
TERENT1I ANDRIA. 25 
 
 and are afraid, and yet their interest compels them to re- 
 fuse. There at that time their mode of speaking is most 
 shameless. Who art thou ? What are you to me? 
 Why should I give her that is mine to you ? Harkye, I 
 am nearest friend to myself. But when you shall trust 
 them, if you may ask a question, it shames them not. 
 Here, where there is need of fear, they are not in awe ; 
 there where there is no occasion, then they are afraid 1 . 
 But what shall I do? must I go to him, and expostulate 
 with him this ill usage ? Shall I lay upon him these many 
 evils? .And some one may say, you will have gained 
 nothing. I say, I shall have gained much. I shall have 
 been certainly troublesome to him, and shall have satis- 
 fied my mind. [He advances towards Simo's door.) [Enter 
 from Simd's house Pamphilus and Dams) Pam. (to Cha- 
 rinus) 1 have destroyed imprudent, both myself and you, 
 Charinus, unless the gods in some way favour us. C/ia. 
 Have you been thus imprudent? At length the cause is 
 found out. You have broke your faith. Pam. How then ? 
 Cha. Do you even now want to wheedle me with those 
 words? Pam. What is that matter? Cha. After that I 
 said I was in love, the girl pleased you. Alas ! wretched 
 me ! Who had a conception of your disposition from 
 my own. Pam. You are wrong. Cha. Hath not this 
 your joy seemed great enough, unless you had coaxed-me 
 in my love, and could lead me on with fahe hope? You 
 may have her. Pam. I may have her ? Ah ! you know 
 not in how great misfortunes I can be thrown about, mi- 
 serable as I am, and how great cares this my executioner 
 has contrived for me by his counsels. Cha. Why is that 
 wonderful, if from you he takes the example? Pam. 
 You cannot say that, if you may have known either me 
 or my love. Cha. I know the matter. You wrangled 
 with your father not long since, and he is now angry with 
 you on that account, nor however could he this day com- 
 pel you that you should marry her. Pam. Really also, 
 as you but little know my calamities, these nuptials were 
 not got ready for me, nor did any one require to give me 
 a wife. Cha. I know. You have been compelled with 
 your own good liking. Pam. Wait now ! You do not 
 yet know the thing. Cha. I know indeed that you are 
 about to marry her. Pam. Why do you torture me? 
 Hear this. He never desisted to press me that I should 
 say to my father, that I would many. To persuade, en- 
 treat me to that degree, until he forced me. Cha. What 
 
24 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 man there? Pam. Davus. Cha. {in surprise) Davus ? 
 Pam. Davus did all things. Cha. Wherefore? Pam. I 
 know not, but I know that the gods were angry enough 
 with me, who can have listened to him. Cha. Was this 
 done, Davus ? Dav. {with eyes cast dow?i) It was done. 
 Cha. Ah ! what do you say, you scoundrel ? But may 
 the gods put destruction on you worthy of your deeds ! 
 Harkye, tell me, if all his enemies would wish him 
 thrown into a marriage, what counsel could they give but 
 this ? Dav. I am deceived, but not tired out. Cha. I 
 know that. Dav. It hath not succeeded this way, we will 
 attempt it in another, unless you think in that way, that 
 because it hath not gone on at first, this evil cannot now 
 be converted into good. Pam. Yes truly ; for I well be- 
 lieve, if you shall be very vigilant, out of one you will 
 make up two marriages for me. Dav. {in a serious tone) 
 I owe to you, Pamphilus, this for service, to strive with 
 hands and feet, both nights and days, to encounter peril 
 of my life, while I can be of advantage to you. It is your 
 duty, if any thing happens beyond expectation, to pardon 
 me. What I do perhaps succeeds but little, but I do it 
 with diligence. But do you yourself find something bet- 
 ter, and dismiss me. Pam* I desire it, but restore me to 
 the place where you took me up. Dav, {with courage) I 
 will do it. Pam. but instantly there is need of this. Dav. 
 Aha ! Hist ! wait. Glycerium's door hath creaked. Pam. 
 That is nothing to you. Dav. {meditating) I am search- 
 ing for something. Pam. O ho! what now at last? 
 Dav. But immediately I will present it ready invented to 
 you. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE II. 
 
 {Enter Mysis from Glycerium's house, the door is kept 
 open y and she speaks to Glycerium withifi.) 
 
 Mysis. Now I will take care, that your Pamphilus, 
 wherever he shall be, shall be found for you, and brought 
 to you along with me. Only you, my dear soul, be un- 
 willing to afflict yourself. {She moves Jorward and the door 
 is shut.) Pam, {advancing to her) Mysis ! Mys. What is it? 
 (she turns about, and sees him.) Ah"! ha! Pamphilus, you 
 offer yourself to me most conveniently. Pam. What is 
 it? Mys. My mistress has ordered me to entreat, that 
 if you love her, you may immediately come to her. She 
 
TERRENTII ANDRIA. 25 
 
 says that she is desirous to see you. Pam. {aside) Ah ! I 
 am undone. This evil grows anew. (To Davus) That thus 
 myself and her should now wretched be troubled in con- 
 sequence of your endeavour ! For I am called by her on 
 that account, because she perceived that the nuptials 
 were prepared for me. Cha. In which indeed how easily 
 it could have been at rest, if he could have been at rest. 
 Dav. (to Char inns) Do go on ; if he is not mad enough 
 of his own accord, instigate him. Mys. (to Pamphilus) 
 and indeed that is the affair; and on account of it she 
 wretched woman is now in grief. Pam. Mysis, I swear 
 to you by all the gods that I never will forsake her ; not 
 even if I were to know that all men were to be made my 
 enemies. I sought her for myself, she fell to my lot ; 
 our ways agree; may those farewell who wish division be- 
 tween us; her, except death, no one shall take away 
 from me. Mys. I am cheered up again. Pam. The 
 answer of Apollo is not more true than this. If it shall 
 possibly happen that my father may not believe it was 
 fixed by me that the nuptials be not, I wish that that 
 may be so. But if it shall be otherwise, I will give 
 him reason to believe, that what is likely to fail, hath 
 been fixed by me, (To Char inns) What do I seem to you 
 now ? Cha. Wretched equally as myself. Dav. I am 
 making out a scheme. Cha. Stout if you can attempt 
 any thing. * Dav. I really will make this effected for 
 you. Pam. Now directly there is need of this. Dav. 
 But now directly I have it. Cha. (stepping forward) 
 What is it ? Dav. (to Charinus) I have it for him, not 
 for you, do not mistake. Cha. I am satisfied. Pam. 
 What will you do, tell me? Dav. I fear lest this day 
 may not be sufficient for me to performing this, do not 
 believe me now to be at leisure for telling it you. For 
 that purpose (he pushes them off with his elbows, as he 
 stands between them) move yourselves off hence, for ye 
 are a hindrance to me. Pam. I will visit her (exit into 
 Glycermm's house) Dav. (to Charinus) What do you do? 
 where do you betake yourself? Cha. Do you wish I 
 may speak the truth ? Dav. The beginning of your 
 talking to me commences. Cha. W r hat will be done with 
 regard to me ? Dav. Harkye, thou shameless man, do 
 not you account it enough that I add to you a day, in 
 the same degree as I defer his nuptials ? Cha. O Davus, 
 
 * At Westminster it was acted Fortis si quid conere, by Charinus. 
 
26 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 but notwithstanding. Dav. What is it therefore ? Cha. 
 That I may marry her. Dav. Ridiculous ! Cha. En- 
 deavour to come hither to me, if you shall be able to ef- 
 fect any thing. Dav. Why shall I come? I have 
 nothing. Cha. But nevertheless, if you shall have any 
 thing. Dav. Well ! well ! I will come Cha. If you 
 shall have any thing, I shall be at home. [Eitt Chari- 
 nus at the back scene.) Dav. {to My sis) Wait for me 
 here a little while, you Mysis, while I go out. Mys. 
 For what reason ? Dav. So there is need of its being 
 done. Mys. Be quick. Duv, I say, I will be here in- 
 stantly. {Exit into Glycerium's house.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE III. 
 
 Mysis. {In soliliquy) O that no one should have recti- 
 tude ! Gods and faith ! I used to think that this Pam- 
 philus was the greatest happines to my mistress, her 
 friend, her lover, and husband, ready on any occasion. 
 But now what trouble does she wretched woman receive 
 from him ! readily on the one hand there is more of mi- 
 sery, than on the other hand of happiness — But Davus is 
 going out. {Enter Davus from Glycerium's house with a 
 child in his arms) My good man, I entreat you, what is 
 that? Where are you carrying the child 7 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 Davits. Mysis, now I have need of your very ready 
 memory and craftiness to this affair. Mys. What are you 
 going to undertake? Dav. Take this child from me 
 quickly, and lay it down at our door. Mys. I entreat 
 you, what on the ground? Dav. Take some sprigs to 
 you hence from the altar, and put them under it. Mys. 
 Why do you not do that yourself? Dav. Because if 
 there be need to swear to my master that I have not put 
 it here, that I may be able to do so conscientiously. 
 Mys. I understand. That new piety hath now come upon 
 you. Give it me. {He gives the child into her hands.) Dav. 
 Move yourself quicker, that you may understand besides 
 what I shall do. {She puts the child on the ground before 
 Simo's door, and quits it.) Dav. {looking towards the back 
 scene)Oh ! Jupiter ! Mys. What ? Dav. The father of 
 the bride is coming upon us. I reject the scheme that 
 I had at first intended. Mys. I know not what you may 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 27 
 
 be saying? Dav. I also will pretend that I am coming 
 hence from the right hand. See you, that you help my 
 oratory wit i your words whenever there be need. Mys* 
 I do not understand what you can be about. But if there 
 be any thing as to which you may have need of my care, 
 or which you discern more than I do, I will wait 
 here, that I may not delay in any way your advantage. 
 — {Exit Davusat the side scene.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Chremes from the back scene, walking slowly to- 
 wards the front.) 
 
 Chremes. I am returning, after that I have prepared 
 things which were needful to the marriage of my daugh- 
 ter, that I may order her to be called here. (As he turns 
 towards Simo's door, he sees the child on the g?*ound 9 and 
 stands amazed.) But what is this? (He pokes his stick 
 underneath it, and stooping examines it.) By my faith 
 it is a child ! (turning to My sis) Woman, have you put 
 this here? Mys. (looking every whereabout) Where is 
 he there? Chr. Do not you answer me? (he goes back a 
 little.) Mys. Ah ! he is no where. Alas ! me miserable ! 
 the man has left me, and gone away. (Enter Davus from 
 the side scene, arid hurries towards the front talking loud to 
 himself) Div. Gods and faith ! What a crowd there is 
 at the Forum! What squabbling of men is there! Then 
 Corn is dear, (aside in a loud voice) What else shall I say 
 I know not. Mys. (to Davus) Why have you left me 
 alone here ? Dav. (seeming not to see Chremes, but look- 
 ing at the child) Ah ! ha ! what story is this ? Harkye, 
 Mysis, whence is this child ? Or who brought it hither ? 
 Mys. Are you well in your senses who ask me that ? — 
 Dav. Whom therefore may I ask, who see no one else 
 here ? Chr. {behind) I wonder whence it may be ? Dav, 
 Will you tell me what I ask ? Mys. Au. Dav. (in a whis- 
 per) go to the right here. Mys. You are mad ; was not 
 it you yourself ? Dav. If you shall say one word 
 beyond what I ask you, take care of yourself. Mys. 
 You speak badly to me. Dav. Whence is it? Speak 
 aloud. Mys. From us. Dav. (laughing) Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 Wonderful truly, if the woman acts so impudently. — 
 Chr. (behind) This maid-servant is from the Andria wo- 
 man, as far as I understand. Dav. Do we seem to you 
 
28 TERENTII ANURIA. 
 
 to be so fit, on whom you may play your tricks ? Chr. 
 [behind) I came in the very time. Dav. Hasten therefore 
 to take up the child hence from the door. (She is going 
 to take it up, he whispers her) What ! take care liow you 
 go any where from iliat place. Mys. May the Gods 
 destroy you, you so frighten wretched me. Dav. Am I 
 talking to you or not? Mys. What do you wish? Dav. 
 But are you still asking ? Tell me whose child you have 
 put down here? Say it to me. Mys. Do you not know? 
 Dav. Away with what I know ; tell me what I ask. — 
 Mys. Of yours. Dav. Who yours? Mys. OfPamphilus. 
 Dav. (loudly) Ha ! what? of Pa m ph i 1 u s ? Mys. W hy 
 now is it not? Chr. (behind) Properly I avoided always 
 these nuptials. Dav. O sad deed to be thought of! Mys. 
 Why do you cry out ? Dav. Whom saw I yesterday 
 carried to you in the evening ? Mys. O you audacious 
 man! Dav. It is true. (He puts the skirts of his coat before 
 him) I saw Canthara bundled up. Mys. Indeed I thank 
 the gods, that some good women were present with her 
 in her delivery. Dav. Truly she hath not known him 
 for whose sake she does these things. Chremes, if he 
 shall have seen the child placed before the house, will 
 not give his daughter. Not seeing it, he will so much 
 the rather give her. Chr. (behind) Truly he will not do 
 it. Dav. Now therefore that you mry understand, un- 
 less you take away the child, I will now roll it in the 
 middle of the way, and roll you there in the mud. Mys. 
 Why truly man, you are not sober. Dav. One falsity 
 thrusts forward another. Now I heard it is whispered, 
 that she is an Attic citizen. Chr. (behind) Oh ! ho ! — 
 Dav. Compelled by the laws he will marry her. Mys. Au ! 
 I beseech you is she not a citizen ? Chr. (behind) In 
 ignorance I have almost fallen into a ridiculous misfortune. 
 Dav. (turning round) Who speaks here ? O Chremes, 
 you come at a proper time. Hearken to me. Chr. I 
 have heard now all the things. I have heard them, I say, 
 from the beginning. Dav. Have you heard, pray. — 
 Ah ! the cheats ! It behoves this woman now to be 
 dragged away into torture hence. (To Mysis) Here 
 is the man : you are not to believe that you are 
 playing on Davus. Mys. Me miserable ! indeed, my 
 good old man, I have said no falsity. (She takes up 
 the child.) Chr. I have known all the affair. Is Simo 
 within ? Dav. He is. (Exit Chremes into Simo's house) — 
 {Davus runs across, and takes Mysis round the waist.) Mys. 
 Do not touch me, you wicked man ! Oh ! if I do not tell all 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 29 
 
 these things to Glycerium — Dav. Harkye you fool ; you 
 do not know what has been done- Mys. How can I know 
 it ? Dav. This is the father-in-law. It could not be 
 done in any olher way, that he should know these things 
 which we wish him to know. Mys. Ah ! you should tell 
 me before hand. Dav. Do not you think it little differs, 
 whether you may do al! things from your ready thought, 
 as Nature prompts, or from studied purpose ? {They stand 
 aside.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VI. 
 
 {Enter Crito, slowly walking up from the bach Scene, and 
 looking at the houses on each side,) 
 
 Crito. In this street it is said that Chrysis is resident, who 
 wished to get riches disgracefully to herself here, rather 
 than to live honestly poor in her native country. By her 
 death those possessions returned to me by law. {Seeifig 
 Davits and Mysis) but I see those whom I may enquire of. 
 {taking off his hat) Your servant ! Mys. I pray you whom 
 do I see? is this Crito, the cousin of Chrysis ? It is he. 
 Cri. O Mysis, your servant. Mys. Save you, Crito. 
 Cri. So, is Chrysis gone? Ah! Mys. She has ruined truly 
 indeed us miserable women. Cri. How is it as to you 
 all? In what way here? is all sufficiently right? Mys. 
 As to us ? So as we can, as they say, when it is not in our 
 power to do as we wish. Cri. How does Giycerium do? 
 Does she now find her parents here? Mys. I wish she may 
 find them. Cri. What not as yet ? I brought myself hither 
 not very auspiciously ; for in truth, had I known that, 
 I would never have directed my steps hither, for she was al- 
 ways said to be, and was accounted her sister. She posseses 
 what things were the other's. Now the examples of olher 
 men instruct me how easy and profitable it may be for me 
 here, that though a stranger I should pursue a course of 
 law. At the same time I do think, that there is now some 
 friend and protector to her; for she went from that place 
 now almonst grown up. Men may exclaim, that 1 a syco- 
 phant am pursuing inheritance ; and that I am a beggar. In 
 truth however, it does not please me to despoil her of her 
 possessions. Mys. O excellent stranger, Crito, truly you 
 retain your old good disposition. Cri. Conduct me to her, 
 since I have come hither, that I may see her. Mys. Cer- 
 tainly. {Exeunt Crito and Mysis into Glycerium' s house,) 
 
30 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 Dav. I will follow these ; I do not wish that my old man may 
 see me at this juncture. (Davus follows them into Glyceri- 
 um's house.) 
 
 END OF ACT. IV. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Chremes and SiMO from Simo's house.) 
 
 Chremes. Enough now, enough, Simo, has my friend- 
 ship been tried towards you; sufficient peril have I at- 
 tempted to encounter j now make a conclusion of your 
 entreating, while I am desirous to comply with you, I 
 have almost sported with the life of my daughter. Si. 
 Verily and truly now, as strongly as possible I require 
 from you and entreat you, Chremes, that the beneficial 
 compact lately entered into with words, you may now ful- 
 fil in reality Chr. See how unfair you can be through- 
 eagerness ; while you can effect that which you desire^ 
 you neither think of a limit of my kindness, nor what 
 you may entreat me for. For if you can think at all, 
 you may omit now to load me with injuries. Si. What 
 injuries ? Chr. Ah ! do you ask ? You have driven me 
 on, that to a young man occupied in another love and ab- 
 horring wedlock, I should give my daughter into trouble 
 and uncertain nuptials. That I should give a remedy to 
 your son, by her distress and by her pain. You obtained 
 it. — I begun it, when the matter suffered it. Now it does 
 not suffer it, and you may bear the consequence, They 
 say that she is a citizen from hence. A child has been 
 born. Dismiss us therefore from the business. Si. I en- 
 treat you by the gods, that you may not bring your mind 
 to believe those, to whom it is very useful that he should 
 be as bad as possible. On account of the marriage all 
 these things are feigned and attempted. When that cause 
 for which they do these things shall be taken away from 
 them, they will leave off. Chr. You are wrong. I my- 
 self saw the servant girl wrangling with Davus. Si, I 
 know it. Chr. But with a true countenance, when in the 
 mean time neither had perceived that I was present there. 
 Si. I believe it, and Davus awhile since foretold to me 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 that the women were about to do it. And ^1 know not 
 why I forgot to-day to tell it you as I wished to do. 
 
 [They retire a little ', as if in conversation.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Davus from Glycerium's house.) 
 
 Davus. (strutting in font) Now immediately I com- 
 mand him to be with a mind at ease. Ckr. (to Simo) 
 Hah ! behold Davus for you. Si. From whence does he 
 go out ? Dav. With my protection, and that of the 
 stranger. Si. What is that bad matter ? Dav. I have 
 not seen a man more convenient, an arrival more conve- 
 nient, nor an opportunity more convenient. Si. A 
 scoundrel ! whom is he praising ? Dav. All the affair is 
 now in shallow water. Si. Do I delay to speak to him ? 
 (he goes tozvards Davus) Dav. (seeing Simo) It is my 
 master. What shall I do? Si. O, your servant, my 
 good man ! Dav. (turning carelessly round) O ! ho ! 
 Simo! O our Chremes! All things are now prepared 
 within. Si. (in a sarcastic tone). You took care of them 
 finely! Dav. When you shall choose it, call the young 
 woman. Si. It is well truly ; but really that is here now 
 distant from the matter. Do you answer this besides, 
 what business have you in that place? Dav. have I? Si. 
 Just so. Dav. have I? Si. (with loud voice) Have you 
 therefore? Dav. I went in there just now. Si. as if I 
 am asking how long ago. Dav. Along with your son to- 
 gether. Si. (agitated) What ? is Pamphilus within there? 
 I am tormented, unhappy as I am ! Harkye, have not 
 you said, you hangman, that there were quarrels between 
 them ? Dav. There are. Si. Why therefore is he here ? 
 Chr. What do you think with respect to him? sure he is 
 wrangling with her there. Dav. Verily and truly, Chre- 
 mes, I shall now have made you hear from me an unwor- 
 thy transaction. An old man, I know not who, came just 
 now. Behold him, how confident and scientific ! When 
 you see his face, he seems to you to be of the greatest 
 value. Sad austerity is in his countenance, and in his 
 words faith is to be placed. Si. What news do you bring? 
 Dav. Nothing indeed, unless that which I heard him say. 
 Si. What does he say at last? Dav. That he knows Gly- 
 cerium to be a citizen of Attica. Si. (enraged and turn- 
 ing towards his door) Hoh ! Dromo, Dromo ! Dav. 
 
32 TERENTII AN DIM A. 
 
 What is it ? Si. (louder) Dromo ! Dav. hear faie. Si. 
 If you shall have added one word ! Dromo there ! Dav. 
 (kneeling) Hear me, I beseech you. (Enter Dromo, a riif- 
 
 jfian looking big fellow with a red night cap, bursting from 
 Simo's door) Dro. What do you want? Si. Drag him 
 in your arms within-doors, as fast as you can. Dro. 
 Whom? S& Davus. Dro. For what reason? Si. Be- 
 cause it pleases me. Drag him away, 1 say. Dav. 
 (holding up his hands in supplication.) What have I 
 done? Si. Drag him off. Dav. If you shall find that I 
 have been telling lies as to any thing, slay me. Si. I 
 hear nothing. I will set you bouncing. Dav. Notwith- 
 standing and although this is true. Si. Notwithstanding. 
 (to Dromo) Take care that he is kept tied down. And do 
 you hear? Bind him all-fours. (Dromo seizes Davus, and 
 carries him off" in his arms into Simo's house, and the door 
 is shut) Well now at once ! I verily this day will show to 
 you, (holding up his fist towards his door) if I live, what 
 peril it is to deceive your master, and to him (shaking his 
 
 Jist at Glyceriuni } s house) to deceive his father. Chr. Ah ! 
 do not rage so extravagantly. Si. G Chremes, the good 
 conduct of a son ! Have you not compassion forme? 
 That I should take so much trouble about such a son 1 
 (He goes over to Glycerium's door, and knocks at it two or 
 three times with his stick) Come hither Pamphilus ! Go 
 out thence, Pamphilus 1 Doth it shame you at all of 
 these doing ? (He walks away from Glycerium's door to the 
 opposide side.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Pamphilus from Glycerium's door hastily, and 
 stops near it. 
 
 Pamphilus. Who wants me? (looking across he sees 
 Simo) I am lost! it is my father, (droops his head.) Si. 
 What are you saying, you wretch ? Chr. Ah 1 say the 
 thing itself rather, and leave off abusing him. Si. As if 
 any thing now could be said against him more severe than 
 is proper, (to Pamphilus) Do you say at length ? is Gly- 
 ceriuni a citizen? Pam. So they openly say. Si. So they 
 openly say? O what great assurance! (to Chremes) 
 Whether does he think of what he may say ? Whether 
 does it grieve him of the deed? Whether does his com- 
 plexion indicate any where a sign of shame? That he 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 33 
 
 should be with a mind ^o weak, that beyond the custom of 
 citizens, and the law, and the will of his father, yet he 
 can desire to retain her with the utmost disgrace ? Para, 
 {sighing heavily) Me miserable ! Si. Hah ! Have you 
 just found out that at last, Pamphilus? Formerly that 
 word, formerly, when you so took it into your mind, that 
 what you desired was by some means or other to be ef- 
 fected for you, on that same day that word truly fell upon 
 you. But what am I doing ? Why do I torment my- 
 selt ? Why do I exhaust myself? Why do I afflict my 
 old age with the mad silliness of him ? Whether that for 
 his crime I should suffer punishment? Why then let 
 him have her! May he farewell 1 Let him live along 
 with her ! Pam. O my father ! Si. Why, O my father? 
 as if you may want this father ! House, wife, and chil- 
 dren have been found by you against your father's will. 
 Men have been brought here who may say that she is a 
 citizen from hence. You will have conquered me. Pam. 
 My father, is it lawful for me to say a few words? Si. 
 What will you say to me ? Chr. Nevertheless, Simo, 
 hear him. Si. Shall I hear him ? Why shall I hear 
 him, Chremes? Chr. But permit him at length that he 
 may speak. Si. Well! well! let him say on! I per- 
 mit him. Pam. I do confess that I love her. If that is 
 to sin, I confess that also. To you, my father, I sur- 
 render myself. Lay any weight you choose upon me. 
 Command me. Do you wish that I should marry ? Do 
 you wish me to send this girl away? I shall bear it, as 
 well as I shall be able; this one thing only I beseech of 
 you, not to believe that this old man was brought here 
 by me on design. Permit me that I may clear myself, and 
 may bring that man hither in your presence. Si. May 
 bring him hither ? Pam. Permit me, my father. Chr. He 
 requires a just thing. Give him leave. Pam. Suffer me 
 to gain by entreaty this thing from you. Si, I do permit 
 it. I desire any thing while I may find that I was not 
 deceived by him, Chremes. (Pamphilus goes hastily into 
 Glyceriuiris house.) Chr. For a great fault a small portion 
 of punishment is sufficient for a father. 
 
31 TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Efiler from Glycerium's house, Crito followed by Pam- 
 philus.) 
 
 Crito {turning to Pamphilus). Leave off entreat- 
 ing ! Any one reason of these impels me to do it, either 
 yourself, or what is truth, or what I desire to Glycerium 
 herself. Chr. {looking at Crito with his hand above his 
 eyes) Do I see Crito the Andrian ? It is certainly he. 
 Cri. {seeing Chremes) May you be well in health, Chremes ! 
 Chr. Why did you come to Athens, unaccustomed to 
 it ? Cri. It happened so. But is this Simo ? Chr. It is 
 he. Si. Are you looking for me? Harkye you ! Do 
 you say that Glycerium is a citizen from hence? Cri. 
 Do you deny it ? Si. Do you come thus prepared hither ? 
 Cri. About what affair ? Si. Do you ask ? Can you do 
 these things unpunished ? Do you entice here into de- 
 ceit very young men, ignorant of things and liberally 
 brought up ? Do you butter up their thoughts by solicit- 
 ing and promising ? Cri. Are you in your senses, man ? 
 Si. And do you glue up these harlot-loves with nuptials ? 
 Pam. (aside) I am lost. I fear how the stranger may sup- 
 port this. Chr. If, Simo, you may have known this man 
 enough, you cannot think so. This is a good man. Si. 
 Can this man be good ? Does he come to-day so con- 
 veniently in the very nuptials, that he never came before 
 this ? Is he truly to be credited, Chremes ? Pam. (aside) 
 Unless that I may fear my father, I have for that affair 
 what I can well acquaint him with. Si. {shaking his stick 
 at Crito) A sycophant ! Cri. (knocking his stick against 
 the stage) Ah! hah! Chr. So he is, Crito. Pass it by. 
 Cri. Let him see who he may be ; if he goes on to say 
 to me what he chooses, he shall hear those things which 
 he does not wish to hear. Do I stir up those things, or 
 take trouble about them ? (to Simo) Will you not bear 
 your misfortune with patience? For as to those things 
 which I say, whether you may have heard them true or 
 false, can now be known. A certain man of Attica for- 
 merly, his ship being wrecked, was cast forth upon the 
 island Andros, and that a little girl along with him. 
 Then he being in want, by chance first addresses himself 
 to the father of Chrysis. Si. He begins with a lie. Chr. 
 Permit him to go on. Cri. (striking his stick down) Does he 
 
TERBNTII ANDRXA. 35 
 
 interrupt me thus? Chr. Goon. Cri. Besides, thatman was a 
 relation to me, who received him. There I often heard from 
 him that he was of Attica. He died there. Chr. His name ? 
 Cri. His name to you so soon ? (he meditates a 'while) It was 
 Phania. Chr. Hah ! I am lost. Cri. But truly I think that 
 it was Phania. This I know for certain, he said that he was 
 ofRhamnus. Chr. O Jupiter! Cri. Many others, Chre- 
 mes, at that time heard these same things in Andros. Chr. 
 I wish it may be that which I hope. Harkye, tell me, what 
 with respect to her at that time ? Did he say she was his 
 own? Cri. No. Chr, Whose therefore? Cri. The 
 daughter of his brother. Chr. She is certainly mine. Cri, 
 What do you say ? Si. What are you saying ? Pam. 
 Lift up your ears, Pamphilus. Si. {to Chr ernes) How do 
 you believe it? Chr. That Phania was my brother. Si. I had 
 knownit, and do know it. Chr. He goes hence, avoidingwar, 
 and following me into Asia. Then he was afraid to leave her 
 here. After those things I now hear for the first time what 
 became of him. Pam. I am scarcely in my senses, my 
 mind is so agitated with fear, hope, joy, with wondering 
 at this so great, so sudden good. Si, (to Chremes) truly in 
 many ways I rejoice that she is found to be yours. Pam. 
 I believe it, my father. Chr. But one scruple remains to 
 me yet, which vexes me. Pam. You are worthy of hatred, 
 with your scruple of conscience you are seeking an impedi- 
 ment in the smooth way. Cri. What is that matter? — 
 Chr. The name does not agree. Cri. There was truly ano- 
 ther name to her when she was little. Chr. What was it, 
 Crito? Have you remembered it at all ? Cri. (meditating) 
 I am searching for it in my memory. Pam. Shall I suffer 
 his memory to oppose my happiness, when I myself can 
 administer to myself in this affair? I will not suffer it. — 
 Harkye, Chremes, the name that you seek is, Pasibula, — 
 Cri It is she herself. Chr. It is it. Pam. I have heard it 
 from herself a thousand times. Si. I trust that you believe, 
 Chremes, that we all rejoice at this. Chr. So may the gods 
 love me, I believe it. Pam. What remains, father ? Si. 
 Already hath the affair itself brought me back to favour 
 you. Pam. O my sensible father ! Chremes changes not 
 concerning my wife, so as I have possessed her. Chr. It 
 is a very good reason unless your father says something 
 else. Pam. (to Simo) That is— Si. It is consented to. — 
 Chr. The portion, Pamphilus, is ten talents. Pam. I ac- 
 cept of it, Chr. I hasten to my daughter ; come with me, 
 Crito, for I believe that I should not know her. (Ex- 
 d 2 
 
3^ TERENTII ANDRIA. 
 
 eunt Chremes and Crito into Glycerium's house) Si. (to 
 Pamphilus) Why do not you order her to be brought across 
 hither? Pam. You rightly advise. I will give up that 
 business now to Davus. Si. He cannot do it. Pam. How 
 can he not? Si. Because he has another matter more in 
 respect to himself and greater. Pam. What is it ? Si. 
 He is tied. Pam. Father, he is not rightly tied. Si. (laugh- 
 ing) I ordered not so. Pam. Order him to be loosed, I 
 beseech you. Si. Well ! let it be done. Pam. But hasten. 
 Si. I go within doors. {Exit Simo into his house.) Pam. 
 
 lucky and happy day ! 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE V. 
 
 {Enter Charinus from the bach scene, and walks half way 
 up, Pamphilus being at the front.) 
 
 Cha. I go forth to see what Pamphilus may be doing ; 
 and behold him there. Pam. (not seeing Charinus) Some 
 one may think perhaps that I do not imagine this to be true; 
 but it pleases me to know now that this matter is real thus. 
 
 1 am of opinion that the life of the gods is perpetual on 
 that very account, that their pleasures are belonging to 
 themselves, for I have got immortality, if no calamity shall 
 interrupt my joy. But whom now may I chiefly wish for, 
 to be presented to me, to whom I may tell these things ? — 
 Cha. (behind) What is that joy ? (Simo* s door opens) Pam. 
 I see Davus. There is no one of all men, whom I would 
 rather see ; for I know that he alone is about to rejoice 
 heartily at my joys. 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter Davus without his coat 9 his hair dishevelled, crawling 
 slowly from Simo's door, stooping and rubbing his legs that 
 had been tied. ) 
 
 Davus. {with melancholy tone) Whereabouts here is Pam- 
 philus ? Pam. O Davus ! Dav. (not looking up) What 
 man is that ? Pam. I am here. Dav. (raising his head up 
 slowly) O Pamphilus. Pam. You know not what can 
 have happened to me. Dav. Certainly ; {stooping and rub- 
 bing his legs again) But I know what can have happened to 
 
TERENTII ANDRIA. 37 
 
 myself. Pam. And also I know it. Dav. (speaking slowly) 
 According to custom of men it happens, that you should 
 come to the knowledge of that evil which I may have goV 
 before that I should know that good whicfo hath happened- 
 to you. Pam. My Glycerium has found her parents. Dav. 
 O well done ! Cha. {behind) Oh ! hoh ! Pam. The fa- 
 ther is the greatest friend to us. Dav. Who? Pam. 
 Chremes. Dav. You speak finely. Pam. Nor is there 
 any delay, but that I may marry her. Cha. (behind) Whe- 
 ther may he dream those things, which waking he wished 
 for I Pam. (slapping Davus hard on the back) Then about 
 the child, Davus. Dav. {wincing and putting his hand to 
 his back as if sore) Ah ! leave off! You are the only man, 
 whom the gods are fond of! * Cha. I am safe, if these 
 things are true. I will speak with him. (as Charinus ad- 
 vafices, Pamphilus turns about.) Pam. What man is here ? 
 
 Charinus, you come to me in the very time. Cha. This is 
 well done. Pam. O ! ho ! have you heard it ? Cha. All things. . 
 Come now, regard me in your prosperous affairst Chremes is 
 now your own. I know that he will do all things that 
 you shall wish. Pam. I have had it in mind ; and it is 
 so long a time that we should wait for him, until he may 
 go out, follow me this way. He is now within with 
 Glycerium. (they approach Glyceriums door) You, Davus, 
 go home, quickly call those who may take her away from 
 hence. Why do you stop? Why do you delay? Dav. 
 
 1 am going. (Exeunt Pamphilus and Charinus into Gly- 
 cerium 's house.) Dav. (addressing the audience) Wait 
 not until they may go out of the house hither. Within 
 will be the nuptials, within will be the transaction. — If 
 there is any thing that may remain, ciap your hands.f 
 
 # Acted at Westminister, " solus es quern diligunt Di." 
 f In acting the play at Westminster, the final de- 
 tached sentence was " Si quid est quod restet, Plaudite." 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 CHARACTERS IN THE COMEDY. 
 
 Phcedria, — a young man, son to Laches. 
 
 Chcerea, — a young man, Phaedria's younger brother. 
 
 Parmeno, — Servant to Phaedria, a shrewed sarcastic fel- 
 low. 
 
 Thais, — a harlot or courtesan. 
 
 Thraso, — a bragging military officer. 
 
 Gnatho, — a fat parasite, companion and flatterer of 
 Thraso. 
 
 Pythias, — Maid-servant to Thais, a shrewd woman. 
 
 Dorias, — another maid-servant to Thais. 
 
 Dorus, — an old Eunuch slave. 
 
 Chremes, — a young man, mostly resident in the country. 
 
 Laches, — an elderly gentleman. 
 
 Sophrona,—an old nurse. 
 
 Sangat-SL cook, servant to Thraso the officer. 
 
 MUTE CHARACTERS. 
 
 Simalio, Donace, and Syriscus, — servants to Thraso. 
 Pamphila, — a young lady, sister to Chremes. 
 
 N. B. the character of Antipho, a young man, is 
 omitted in acting the Play, and does not appear. He is 
 mentioned by Chserea, being a friend of his; 
 
39 
 
 THE ARGUMENT, OR STORY OF THE EUNUCH. 
 
 AN Athenian citizen had a daughter, named Pftm- 
 phila, and a son named Chremes. Some robbers carried 
 away Pamphila, when a child, from Sunium, and sold her 
 to a merchant of Rhodes, who gave her, when carried 
 to Rhodes, as a present to a harlot that he loved. This 
 harlot educated the girl along with her daughter Thais, 
 and every one thought she was her own daughter. — Thais, 
 when grown up, followed her mother's course, and leav- 
 ing them came to Athens with a certain man her protec- 
 tor, who dying left her his possessions. A military offi- 
 cer named Thraso loved and paid attention to her, and 
 after living with her for some time went to Caria. The 
 mother of Thais about this time died, and her brother 
 proposed to sell Pamphila, thinking as she was beautiful 
 and well accomplished, to get a good price for her. The 
 soldier, the lover of Thais, happened to be at Rhodes at 
 that time, and ignorant of every circumstance, bought 
 Pamphila, in order to give her as a present to Thais, on 
 his return to Athens. In the soldier's absence Thais had 
 
 fot another lover, an Athenian young man, named 
 'haedria, the son of Laches. Thais was informed of 
 the fate of Pamphila, and having conversed with Chremes, 
 found out that Pamphila who had been educated with, 
 her, was his sister. She wished therefore to restore Pam- 
 phila to her friends, both for the girl's sake, and that she 
 herself might gain the benefit of their friendship. The 
 soldier returns, but knowing of Phaedria' s intimacy with 
 Thais, refuses to give the girl unless he was expelled. 
 Thais loved Phaedria, but for the sake of gaining the 
 girl from Thraso, excludes Phaedria in order to entertain 
 the soldier : she calls Phaedria to her the next day, and 
 tries to clear herself, and at length prevails on Phaedria 
 to give place to Thraso during two days. Phaedria, that 
 he might bear this absence the better, resolved to go into 
 the country, and departing, orders Parmeno to conduct a 
 Eunuch and an iEtheopian girl as presents to Thais, for 
 whom he had bought them. Chaerea, the younger brother 
 to Phaedria, happened to see Pamphila in the street, while 
 she was conducted to Thais, and fell in love with her and 
 eagerly wanted to possess her, and was conducted by 
 
40 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Parmeno to Thais in the dress of the Eunuch, along with 
 the black girl. Thais having gone to supper with the 
 soldier, Chserea violated Pamphila, and great troubles 
 arise. The soldier quarrels with Thais, being jealous 
 about Chremes; he wants to take back Pamphila by 
 force, but fails, Chremes asserting that she is his sister. 
 Chserea wishes to marry Pamphila. Laches comes to the 
 knowledge of matters, and receives Thais into favour and 
 patronage, and Chaeria marries Pamphila, who had been 
 acknowledged through Thais's means as Chremes's sister. 
 Phsedria possesses Thais, and Thraso is cast off, and 
 fallen, but by the solicitation of Gnatho he is suffered 
 to take a share of intimacy with Thais. 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 ( Scene — a Street in Athens— Houses and Temples inter- 
 mixed. On one side is Thais' s house, and on the other 
 that of Phcedria, with their doors opposite.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Ph^ediua and Parmeno from Pjlsediua's house.) 
 
 Phjedria. What therefore shall I do? May I not 
 go there ? Not even now truly, when I am freely called 
 to her ? Or rather may I determine thus not to put up 
 with the affronts of harlots ? She shut me out ! She 
 now recalls me. May I return to her ? Not even if 
 she may implore me. Par. If indeed verily you can do 
 so, nothing is better nor more couragious; but if you 
 shall begin, and not go through with it stoutly, and when 
 you will not be able to bear it, when no one shall seek for 
 you, peace still unmade, will come to her of your own 
 accord, telling her that you love her and cannot bear it, 
 it is all over, ay at once, you are done for ; she will play 
 on you when she shall have perceived you conquered. 
 Therefore thou, my master, think over and over, while 
 there is yet time; that affair, which has in itself neither 
 any counsel nor method, you cannot direct it by any coun- 
 sel. In love all these faults are implanted, affronts, sus- 
 picions, enmities, treaties, war, peace again ; if you may 
 require to do these uncertain things by a sure method, 
 you can accomplish nothing more, than if you may study 
 with a sure method to run mad. And as to that which you 
 yourself now in anger think with yourself, shall I seek 
 her ? Who received him ? Who excluded me ? Who 
 excluded not him ? Suffer me only awhile ; I would 
 rather I should die; she shall know what a man lam; 
 these words, one false bit of a tear methinks, which she 
 "will scarcely have wrung out by miserably squeezing her 
 
42 TERKNTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 eyes, will totally extinguish, and you will voluntarily 
 accuse yourself, and voluntarily you will put punishment 
 into her hands. Phce, An unworthy deed \ I now feel 
 both that she is wicked, and that I am wretched ; and 
 it wearies me, and I burn with love ; and aware of the 
 thing, knowing the thing, alive and with my eyes open I 
 perish . Nor do I know what I shall do. Par. What 
 you shall do? What, unless that you redeem yourself, 
 now a captive, for the smallest price you can ; that if 
 you may not be able for a very small price, but at least 
 at what price you can. and that you may not afflict your- 
 self. Phce. Do you counsel me thus ? Par. If you are 
 wise, and that you may not add troubles to yourself, 
 beyond those which love itself has in it; and that you 
 may properly bear those which it has {looking towards 
 Thais's door). But behold ! She herself is going out, who 
 is the canker of our property ,* for that which it behoves 
 us to receive, she interceps. (They retire.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE. II. 
 
 (Enter Thais from her house, and walks to and fro in 
 front not seeing Phjedria and Parmeno.) 
 
 Thais. Me miserable ! I fear lest Phaedria may have 
 borne it heavier than I thought for, and lest he may have 
 received it differently from what I have really done, 
 that he was not admitted yesterday. Phce. {behind) 
 Parmeno, I tremble and shudder with cold every part of 
 me, after I looked at her. Par. Cheer up ! {pointing at 
 Thais) Go close up to that fire. You will instantly grow 
 hot, more than enough. Tha. {turning her head.) Who 
 is speaking here ? Oh ! were you here, my Phaedria ? 
 Why were you standing here? Why did you not 
 straightway go within doors ? Par. {to Phcedria) But 
 about the exclusion not one word. Tha. Why are you 
 silent ? Phce. Really, because in truth these doors al- 
 ways lie open to me, or because I am the chief in your 
 house. Tha. Make those things be passed over. Pha?. 
 What? Passed over? O Thais, Thais, I wish that 
 I had an equal share of love along with you ; and that it 
 might alike happen, either that this might grieve you the 
 same as it grieves me, or that I might account of no con- 
 sequence that thing done by you. Tha. I beseech you, 
 do not torment yourself my life, my Phaedria ; I have 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 43 
 
 not done it indeed for that reason that I can love any 
 one more, or have more affection for, but so the necessity 
 was ; it was to be done. Par, I believe, as it turns out, 
 you poor wretched woman shut him out of doors for love 
 of him. Tha, {to Parmeno) Do you say so, Parmeno ? 
 Well ! Well ! (to Phcedria) But listen thou, for what 
 cause I ordered you to be called to me hither. Phce, Let 
 it be done. Tha. Tell me this first, can this man be 
 secret ? Par. What I ? Very much so. But harkye you, 
 I bind my faith to you with this condition ; what things 
 I have heard that are true, I hold close in silence, and 
 contain them excellent well. But if there is what is false, 
 or vain, or pretended, it is immediately abroad. Full of 
 great chinks am I, this way and that, I flow through with 
 my contents. Therefore you, if you are willing that 
 things be kept secret by me, say true things. Tha, my 
 mother was of Samos ; she dwelt at Rhodes. Par. This 
 can be kept secret. Tha. There at that time a certain 
 merchant gave a very little girl as a gift to my mother, 
 that had been snatched away hence from Attica. Phce. 
 A Citizen ? Tha. I judge so ; we know not for certain. 
 She herself used to mention the name of her mother and 
 father ; but she neither knew her native country, and 
 other tokens, nor could she even have been able by reason 
 of her age. The merchant added this, that he had heard 
 from the robbers, whom he had bought her from, that 
 she had been carried off from Sunium. My mother, when 
 she received her, began diligently to teach her all things, 
 and to bring her up just as if she were her own daugh- 
 ter. Most people used to believe that she was my sister. 
 I departed hither along with that stranger, with whom 
 alone I then had to do, who left to me all these things 
 which I now have. Par, This each thing is false; it will 
 flow out of me. Tha, How is that? Par, Because you 
 neither were content with one man, nor did he alone give 
 you these things; for this my master brought also a good 
 and great share of them to you. Tha, It is so. But 
 permit me to come to that, which I wish to tell. In the 
 mean time the military man, who had begun to love me, 
 went into Caria ; in the interim of that I was acquainted 
 with you here. You yourself know how intimate 
 after this I have you, and how I confide to you all my 
 counsels. Pha?, Parmeno will not be silent as to this cer- 
 tainly. Par. Oh ! is that doubtful ? Tha, Observe 
 
4* TEREHTII EUNUCBUS. 
 
 this, my dear, — my mother died there lately. Her 
 brother is somewhat more avaritious of money than is 
 right. When he sees that this virgin was of a handsome 
 form, and skilled in the harp, hoping for a high price, he 
 immediately brings her to market, and sells her. By 
 chance fortune this my friend was present ; he buys her 
 as a gift for me, not knowing of these affairs, and ignor- 
 ant of all things. He is come. After that he perceived 
 me to have to do with you also, he diligently feigns rea- 
 sons that he may not give her. He says, if he can trust 
 that he is prefered to you in my liking, and may not fear 
 it, lest when I shall have got her I shall forsake him, that 
 he is willing to give her to me. But that he fears it. 
 But as far as I suspect, he has given his affection to the 
 virgin. Phce. Is there yet more? Tha. Nothing, for I 
 have enquired. Now there are many causes, my Fhaedria, 
 why I may wish to take her away from him. In the first 
 place, because she is said to be my sister. Besides that, 
 that I may restore and give her back to her friends. I 
 am a lonely woman ; I have no one here, neither friend 
 nor relation ; on which account, Phaedria, I wish to get 
 some friends, by a favour conferred from me. Assist me 
 as to that, my dear, that it may be the easier done. Suf- 
 fer him to have the prior share, and these some days with 
 me. Do you answer nothing ? Phce. Vilest woman I can 
 I answer you any thing with those deeds ? Par. [clapping 
 kirn on the back) Well done, my master ! I like you. 
 At length it has grieved you much. You are a man. 
 Phce. {to her) But I did not know how far you were go- 
 ing; she was snatched from hence a very little girl? 
 Your mother brought her up as her own? She is called 
 your sister ? I desire to take her away that I may restore 
 her to her friends ? To-wit all these words now come to 
 this point at last, I am excluded, he is received. For 
 what reason, unless you love him more than me ? And 
 you now are afraid of that girl, who has been brought 
 here, lest she may snatch away from you him such as I 
 have described. Tha. Do I fear that ? Phce. What 
 else therefore troubles you, tell me? Whether does he 
 alone give gifts ? Have you now perceived ever m^ bene- 
 volence towards you to be confined ? Have I not, when 
 you said to me that you desired a slave-girl from Ethi- 
 opia, sought for her, all other affairs forsaken ? More- 
 over you said that you wished for a Eunuch, because 
 queens alone employ them ; I found one. Yesterday I 
 
TKRENTII EUNUCHUS. 45 
 
 gave twenty pounds for both. However despised by you, 
 I had these things in remembrance. On account of these 
 deeds I am spurned by you. Tha. What therefore, 
 Phaedria ? Although I am desirous to take her away, and 
 judge that it can best be done by this affair, yet notwith- 
 standing, rather than I may have you an enemy, I will 
 do as you shall have ordered. Pha. I wish you might say 
 from your heart and with truth that word " rather than 
 I may have .you as an enemy." If I could believe that it 
 was sincerely said, I could suffer any thing. Par. (aside) 
 He is tottering ; conquered by one word, how soon ! 
 Tha. Do I not, miserable as I am, speak from my heart? 
 What thing even in a joke have you wished at length 
 from me, but you have gained it? I cannot obtain this 
 one thing from you, at least that you may grant only two 
 days. Phae. If indeed two days. But let not those days 
 become twenty. Tha. Truly not more than two days, or 
 — Pha. Or ? I have no patience. Tha. It will not be ; 
 suffer me that I may prevail upon you only as to this. 
 Pha?. Yes truly, whatever you wish, must be done. Tha, 
 (taking him by the hand) deservedly I love you. You do 
 kindly towards me. Pha?. I will go to the country. 
 There I will waste myself during these two days. I am 
 determined to do so; I must comply with Thais. You, 
 Parmeno, make those beings be brought here. Par, 
 Most certainly. (Exit Parmeno into Pha?drias* house.) 
 Pha?. For these two days, Thais, farewell ! Tha. And 
 you, my Phaedria ! Do you wish any thing else ? Pha. 
 I wish any thing ? That present with that soldier, you 
 may be absent ! That through days and nights you may 
 love me ? May wish for me, and me may dream of! 
 That you be impatient for me ; that you may think of me, 
 hope for me, and delight yourself with thinking of me ! 
 That with me you may wholly be i And lastly, cause 
 yourself to be my heart, when I am yours. (Exit Phce- 
 dria into his house.) Tha. (in soliloquy) Me miserable ! 
 perhaps he may have little faith in me, and from the dis- 
 positions of other women may now judge of me. I indeed, 
 who know myself, know this for certain, that I have nei- 
 ther fabricated any thing of what is false, nor that any 
 one is dearer to my heart than this Phaedria. And what- 
 ever of this matter 1 have done, for the sake of the vir- 
 gin I have done it. For I hope that I have now nearly 
 
4f6 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 found out her brother, a young man very noble. And he 
 has settled that he will come to-day to me to my house. 
 I will go hence within-doors, and wait for him until he 
 comes. 
 
 [Exit Thais into her house.) 
 
 END OF ACT. I. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 {Enter Ph^dria and Parmeno from Ph^edria's house.) 
 
 Phadria. Do so as I ordered. Let them be conducted 
 down. Par. I will do so. Phce. But diligently. Par. 
 It shall be done. Ph<z. But speedily. Par. It shall 
 be done. Phde. Is this commanded sufficiently to 
 you ? Par. Ah ! Do you ask ? As if it were difficult. 
 I wish you could find something, Phaedria, so easy to do, 
 as this will pass over. Phce. I also am done over along 
 with it, which is of more consequence to me. Bear not 
 that with so vexed a mind. Par. By no means. More- 
 over I will have it done. But do you command an)' thing 
 else ? Phis. Set off my gift with words, as much as you 
 shall be able ; and drive that rival from her, as far as you 
 shall have it in your power. Par. I remember; although 
 you need not advise. Phce. I will go to the country, and 
 there will I remain. Par. I think so. Phce. (sets off, but 
 comes back) But harkye you ! Par. What do you wish ? 
 Phce. Do you think that I can be stout, and endure it so, 
 that I may not return in the mean time? Par. You endure 
 it? I think not indeed; for you will either return imme- 
 diately, or by and by want of sleep will drive you away 
 hither by night. Phce. I will make it my business to be 
 constantly fatigued, so that I must sleep in spite of me. 
 Par. Worn out with fatigue, you will lie awake. You 
 will add this to it. Pha?. Ah! You say nothing Par- 
 meno. This effeminacy must be thrown off. I indulge 
 myself too much. At length I may not want her, if there 
 be occasion, even during an entire three days. Pam. 
 Heigh day ! An immense space of three days ! Take 
 care what you may do. Pha. My opinion's fixed. (Exit 
 Phcedria from the back scene.) Par. {in soliloquy) Good 
 gods ! What sort of disease is this ? That men should 
 
TKRENTH EUNUCHUS. 47 
 
 be so changed from love, that you cannot know a man to 
 be the same ! There was no one less silly than him, not 
 any one more strict, nor more continent. {Looking at the 
 side scene.) But who is this who is marching on hither? 
 Ay ! Ay ! This indeed is Gnatho, the parasite of the 
 officer. He bringing along with him a virgin as a gift to 
 this woman. Faith ! A girl with a handsome face. It 
 is wonderful if I shall not shew myself shabbily here to- 
 day with this my decrepit Eunuch. This girl excels 
 Thais herself. (He stands aside near Thais's door.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter from the side scene , Gnatho handing in Pam- 
 phila. He 'quits her, and advances.) 
 
 Gnatho. Immortal gods ! How one man excels another 
 man ! How an intelligent man differs from a fool ! This 
 came into my mind from this circumstance. Coming here 
 to-day I met a certain man of my own station and rank, 
 a man not wicked, who had also gluttonised away all his 
 paternal property. I see him rough, squalid, sick, beset 
 with rags and old age. ( With a rough voice) What is that 
 sort of decoration, say I ? ( With a whining tone) Because, 
 says he, I wratched lost what I had. Oh dear ! to what a 
 pitch I am reduced ! All my acquaintances and friends de- 
 sert me. ( With a rough voice again) I despised that fellow 
 in comparison with myself. What, says I, you poltroon, 
 have you got yourself in such a way, that no hope be left for 
 you in yourself? Have you lost your wisdom at the same 
 time along with your money ? Do you see me risen from 
 the same condition of life? What a colour, sleekness, 
 clothing ! (Clapping his hand on his belly) What a plen- 
 titude of paunch I have ! I have all things, and I have not 
 a farthing. When I have nothing, yet nothing is deficient. 
 {With a whining tone) But unhappy I can neither be ridicu- 
 lous, nor bear beatings. ( With a rough voice) What? Do you 
 believe that it is done with these matters ? You mistake in 
 the whole way of it. In old time formerly there was profit 
 to that sort of men in the former age. This is a new snare 
 for game. I first invented to that purpose this new way. 
 There is a sort of men, who are willing that they them- 
 selves should be the leaders of all matters, nor are they so. 
 I follow up these men. I do not adapt myself for these, 
 that they may laugh at me, but voluntarily I laugh at them 
 
48 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 and admire their fine qualities at the same time. Whatever 
 they say, I praise. Again, if they deny that matter, I praise 
 that word also. Does any of them deny ? I deny. Does 
 he say a thiug, I say it too. Lastly -I have commanded 
 myself to assent to all things. This is now much the most 
 plentiful gain. Par. (aside) Verily a shrewd man this ! 
 he makes men from fools absolutely insane. Gna. While 
 we are speaking these things, in the mean time changing 
 place, when we arrived at the meat market, all the victual- 
 lers joyful run together to meet me, fishmongers, butchers, 
 cooks, sausage makers, fishermen, and poulterers, whom I 
 had profited in good business and bad, and often do service 
 to. They salute me. They invite me to supper. They 
 congratulate my arrival. When that wretched starveling 
 sees me to be in so great honour, and to seek my livelihood 
 so easily, there the man began to beseech me, that it might 
 be lawful for him to learn that matter from me. I ordered 
 him to follow my rules, and if it is possible, as the doctrines 
 of the philosophers have their names from themselves, I 
 ordered that my Parasites in the same manner be called 
 Gnathonics. Par, [aside) Do you see what idlenes, and 
 food given by others bring to pass ? Gna. But I am de- 
 laying to introduce this young woman to Thais, and to ask 
 that he may come to supper. {He look towards Thais's door) 
 But I see Parmeno, the servant of our Rival standing sor- 
 rowful before Thais's door. The affair is all well. Certainly 
 here men are shivering. I am determined to banter this 
 knave. Par. (aside) These men think that by this gift 
 Thais is their own. Gna, (bowing low to Parmeno) Gnatho 
 salutes his highly esteemed friend Parmeno with the very 
 best wish and congratulation. What are you about? — 
 Par, Standing still. Gna. I see it. ( Pointing to the girl. J 
 Do you see any thing here, which you may be unwilling to 
 see ? Par. (scornfully) I see thee. Gna. 1 believe so, but any 
 thing else ttPar. How then ? Gna. Because you are sorrow- 
 ful. Par. Not so truly. Gna. Be not sorrowful. But what 
 does this slave seem to you ? Par. Not bad methinks. — 
 Gna. {aside) I am roasting the man. Par, (aside) How 
 false-hearted he is ! Gna. How agreabledo \ou judge that 
 this gift will be to Thais ? Par. You now say this, that we 
 are cast out hence. Harkye ! There is a vicissitude of all 
 things. Gna, I will make you at your ease, Parmeno, dur- 
 ing these six whole months, that you may not run up and 
 down, nor watch even to day-light. Do I beatify you at 
 all by this ? Par, Me ? Heighday ! Gna, I am used thus 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 49 
 
 to bless my friends. Par. I like it. Gna. I detain you 
 perhaps; you bad been setting offelsewhere. Par. No where. 
 Gna. Then do you therefore give me a little of your kind- 
 ness. Make me be admitted to her. Par. (standing back a 
 little from the door) Come on then ; these doors now lie 
 open to you, because you conduct that girl. Gna. Do you 
 wish that any one be removed out of doors hence? Par. 
 Stay till these two days may pass by ; thou, who now for- 
 tunate openest these doors with one little finger, truly as I 
 shall have caused, shall often strike against them with 
 your heels in vain. (The door is opened, and they are pass- 
 ing in) Gna. Are you still to remain standing here, Par- 
 nieno ? Oh ! ho ! are you left here a sentinel, that no 
 chance messenger from the officer may run to her secretly ? 
 Par. That's wittily said. Wonderful sayings those are no 
 doubt, which may please the officer. (Gnatho and Pam* 
 phila go into Thais's house.) Par. (looking toxvnrds the 
 side scene) But I see my master's younger son coming hi- 
 ther. I wonder why he may have gone away from the port 
 of Athens, for he is now there a guardian in public office. 
 It is not on slight grounds, and he comes in haste ; I know 
 not why he is looking about him so. (Parmeno goes aside.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE III. 
 
 ( Enter Chorea hastily from the side scene, and looks about 
 on all sides.) 
 
 Clue. I am lost. Neither is the virgin any where, nor am I 
 any where, who lost her out of my sight. Where can I 
 seek her? Where trace her ? Whom can I ask ? What 
 road shall I take? I am undetermined. There is this one 
 only hope, whereever she is, she cannot long be con- 
 cealed. O beautiful face ! From this moment 1 efface all 
 women from my mind. It wearies me of these daily, stale, 
 frail, female forms ! Par. {aside) But behold another of 
 them ! I know not what he is speaking about love. O un- 
 fortunate old man 1 In truth this is he, who, if he shall 
 have begun, will say that the other was a trifler and joker, 
 forasmuch as the furiousness of this one will produce things 
 of any sort. Chce. That gods and goddesses may pound 
 down that old fellow who delayed me to-day; and me also 
 who can have stopped for him ! but who besides can have 
 cared little for him ! But behold Parmeno ! Your ser- 
 vant ! Par. Why are you sad ? Or why sprightly ? From 
 whence are you marching ? Chce. Who I? 1 know not 
 
 E 
 
50 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 faith ; nor whence I may go, 1 have so totally forgot my- 
 self. Par. How, prithee ? Char. I am in love. Par. Aha ! 
 Chce. Now, Parmeno, you shall shew yourself, what sort 
 of a man you may be. You know that you often promised 
 me in these words, " Chaerea, find thou only something 
 that you may love, and I will cause you to know my use- 
 fulness in that affair ; since I gathered up for you secretly 
 all your father's provisions into the cellar. Par. Never mind, 
 silly lad. Chce. That was done, faith ! make now your 
 promises appear, since the affair is so worthy of you where 
 you may apply your powers. This virgin is not like our 
 virgins* whom their mothers eagerly study to be with pulled 
 down shoulders, bound up breast, that they may be slender. 
 If any girl is a little more fleshy, they say she is fit for box- 
 ing. They diminish her food. Although nature is favour- 
 able, with great pains they make them thin as bulrushes. 
 And so therefore they are beloved. Par. Of what sort is 
 that your virgin ? Chce. A new shape of face ! Par. In- 
 deed ! Cha?. Colour real, a body firm and full of juiciness ! 
 Par. Her years ? Chce. Sixteen. Par. The blossom itself. 
 Chce, Mind you give her up to me by open force, or secretly, 
 or by entreaty. It signifies nothing to me, while I may 
 possess her only. Par. What ? Whose is the virgin ? Cha. I 
 know not, faith ! Par. From whence is she ? Chce. I know 
 just as much. Par. Where does she dwell ? Chce. Not that 
 indeed know I. Par. Where have you seen her ? Chce* 
 In the street. Par. By what means have you lost her ? — 
 Cha?. That indeed coming here I was vexed at within my- 
 self just now ! Nor do I think there is any man, to whom 
 all happy felicities are more adverse. Par. What is this 
 evil work ? Cha. I have been undone. Par. What was 
 done ? Chce. Do you ask me that ? Have you known 
 Archidemis, my father's relation and contemporary ? Par. 
 Why not ? Cha?. He chance meets me while I am follow- 
 ing her. Par. Inconveniently indeed. Cha?. Yes indeed, 
 in truth unhappily. Besides this, other inconveniencies 
 are to be told, Parmeno. May I perjure myself, but I 
 have not seen him these six or seven months last altogether, 
 except now, when I would least wish it, and there was 
 least occasion for it. Odds so ! is not this like a prodigy ? 
 What do you say ? Par. Very much. Cha. Immediately 
 he runs up to me, from afar indeed, bent together, shaking, 
 his lips drawn down, and groaning. " Harkye, harkye, 
 I soy to you, Chaerea, " says he. I stood still. Do you 
 know what I wanted of you ? Tell it me. To-morrow I 
 
TERENT1I EUNUCHUS. 51 
 
 have a trial before the judge. What then ? That you may 
 diligently announce it to your father, that he may remem- 
 ber to be an advocate for me early in the morning. While 
 he speaks these words, time went away. I ask if he may 
 want any thing? All right, says he. I depart. When I 
 look back hither towards the virgin, she had in the mean 
 time turned herself hard by into this our street. Par. 
 (aside) It is a wonder if he does not speak of that girl, who 
 was just now given as a present to her. Cha. When I 
 come hither, there was no girl here. Par. Have any com- 
 panions also attended the virgin ? Chce. Truly a Parasite 
 with a maid-servant. Par. It is she herself. At once ! 
 leave off ! It is now proclaimed. Ch&. You are treating 
 of other affairs. Par. I am treating of that matter indeed. 
 Chce. Have you known who she is ? Tell me. Or have 
 you seen her I Par. I have seen and know her. I 
 know where she was carried away. Chce. Harkye, my 
 Parmeno, have you known her ? Par. I have known her. 
 Chce. And do you know where she may be ? Par. She 
 was brought down hither to the harlot, Thais. She was 
 given as a present to her. Chce. Who is he so powerful 
 with this gift so great ? Par. The soldier Thraso, the 
 rival of Phaedria. Chce. You tell me of a difficult business 
 of my brother. Par. Yes truly ; if you were to know 
 what gift he is preparing against that as a present to her, 
 then you may still more assert it. Chce. What gift I pray 
 you ill truth ? Par. A Eunuch. Chce. That man, I beg, 
 an ugly fellow, whom he bought yesterday, old and effe- 
 minate ? Par. The very man. Chce. My man will cer- 
 tainly be expelled out of doors with his gift. But I knew 
 not that Thais to be in our neighbourhood. Par. She is 
 not long so. Chce. I am badly off; that I never even 
 should have seen her ! Harkye, tell me, is she, as it is 
 said, of great beauty ? Par. Certainly. Chce. But noth- 
 ing to this girl of mine? Par. That's another affair. Chat. 
 I beseech you truly, Parmeno, make me possess her. Par* 
 I will do it diligently, and will endeavour. I will assist you. 
 Do you wish any thing else of me? Ch&. Where are you 
 going now ? Par. Home, that I may conduct these slaves 
 to Thais, as your brother ordered. Chce. O that fortunate 
 Eunuch, who may be given indeed into this house ! Par. 
 Why so? Chce. Do you ask? He will constantly see at 
 home a fellow-slave of the highest beauty, he will speak 
 with her, he will be present with her, in the same house, 
 he will sometimes take food with her, will sometimes sleep 
 E 2 
 
62 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 near her. Par. What if you yourself now be made happy? 
 dice. By what affair, Parmeno ? Answer me. Par. Take 
 you his vesture. Chce. Vesture? What then afterwards ? Par. 
 I will carry you there instead of him. Chce. I hear you. 
 Par. I will say that you are he. Chce. I understand. Par. 
 You may enjoy those advantages which you just now said 
 that he would enjoy. You may take food with her, be in 
 her presence, touch her, play with her, sleep near her, 
 since neither any of those women hath known you, nor 
 does know, who you may be. Besides your form and age 
 is that, that you may easily pass for a Eunuch. Chce. You 
 have spoken beautifully; I never saw better counsel given. 
 Come, let us go in-doors now immediately. Dress me, lead 
 me away, conduct me as fast as you can {fie goes towards Phce- 
 dria's door). Par. What are you doing? I was jokiug 
 indeed. Chce. You are chattering now. Par. I am lost. 
 What have I wretched done ? (Chcerea pushes him towards 
 Phcedria's house J Where do you push me ? Though you 
 shall have struck me down now, I say truly to you, stop. 
 Cha?. {impatient) Let us go. Par. Do you persist ? Chce. I am 
 determined. Par. See that this thing be not too hot for 
 you just now. Chce. It is not really ; permit me. Par. 
 But in fact that black bean will condemn me. Ah ! We 
 are doing a bad deed. Chce, Whether is that a bad deed, 
 if I may be brought into a harlot's house, and to those 
 wretches who hold in contempt us and our young age, and 
 who are always torturing us in all ways, I now may repay 
 the favour, and may deceive them in the same manner as 
 by them we are deceived ! Or rather is it right that these 
 things be done towards a father to be played upon with 
 tricks by me ? Which matter, those who shall have found 
 it out may blame, but all must think it to be deservedly 
 done. Par. What therefore? If you are determined to 
 it, you may do it, but lay not afterwards the fault on me. 
 Chce. I will not do it. Par. Do you order me to do this? 
 Chce. I order you, compel you, and command you. I 
 never will fly from this authority of mine. Follow me. — 
 Par, May the gods direct the matter favorably. (Exeunt 
 Charea and Parmeno into Phadria's house J, 
 
 EN J OF THE SECOND ACT. 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 5$< 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 {Enter from the back scene Thraso and Gnathoj Thra- 
 so struts to the front, and Gnatho accompanies him on 
 one side,) 
 
 Thraso. Did Thais seem to render great thanks to 
 me ? Gna, Very great. Thr. Do you say she is joyful ? 
 Gna. Not so much v\ ith the gift itself, as that it was 
 given by you. In truth she seriously triumphs at it. 
 {Enter Parmeno from Phcedria's house, and stands near 
 the door of it. Par, I come hither before to observe, in 
 order that I may bring them down, when there be a 
 proper time. But behold the soldier. Thr. Was that 
 present given with an assurance truly how agreeable to 
 me are all things that I do for her? Gna, In truth I ap- 
 plied my mind to it. Thr. Even a king used to give 
 me the greatest thanks, as to whatever I had done for 
 him. He did not so to others. Gna. He who has the 
 wit that is in you, often in his words transfers to himself 
 the glory obtained by the great labour of other men. 
 Thr. You have it. Gna, The king therefore had you con- 
 stantly in his sight ? Thr. Yes. Gna. He used to exult 
 at it ? Thr. True. He used to trust all the army to me, 
 and his counsels. Gna. Wonderful ! Thr. Then when 
 disgust of men had taken him, or if at any time a dislike 
 of business, when he was willing to recline at his ease, 
 he then, as it were — you understood me? Gna. I know. 
 As if when he might vomit out that misery from his 
 mind. Thr. You hit it. He used then to carry me away 
 as the only companion to him of his banquet. Gna. Ah ! 
 Ah ! You speak of an elegant king. Thr. Yes, so the 
 man is, one of very few men. Gna. Yea of none such, 
 since he lives with you. Thr. All began to envy me, 
 and to nibble at me underhand ; I used not to care a rush. 
 They used miserably to envy me. But one of them par- 
 ticularly, whom he had made praefect over the Indian 
 elephants, at a time when he is more troublesome than 
 usual, I beg, says I, Strato, are you ferocious for that 
 reason because you have the dominion over brutes ? 
 Gna. Odds faith beautifully said, and wisely too I Well 
 now ! You had cut the man's throat. What said he ? 
 Thr, He was dumb instantly. Gna, Why should he not 
 be^ Par. {aside) Gods and 'faith! A lost and miser- 
 
54 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 able man, and that scoundrel! Thr. What? Have I 
 never told you, Gnatho, the story, in what a way I 
 touched the Rhodian in a public entertainment ? Gna. 
 Never, but tell it I entreat you. [aside) I have already 
 heard it more than a thousand times. Thr. This man, 
 whom I am speaking of, a young man of Rhodes, was 
 with me in a banquet; by chance I kept a whore. He 
 began to allude to that, and to laugh at me. What are 
 you doing, says I, shameless man ? You yourself are a 
 hare, and chew the cud. Gna. {laughing loud) Ha ! Ha I 
 Ha ! Thr. What is it ? Gna. Facetiously said ! Cle- 
 verly ! Nicely ! Nothing beyond it. I beg of you, was 
 that your own saying ? I believe it antient. Thr. Had 
 you ever heard it? Gna* Often, and it is reckoned 
 among the best jokes. Thr. It is mine. Gna. It grieves 
 me that it was said to a young man who was unthinking 
 and liberal minded. Par. [aside) But may the gods con- 
 found you ! Gna. What, said he, I beg ? Thr. He 
 was lost. All who were present began to expire with 
 laughter. At length all now used to fear me. Gna. Not 
 without reason. Thr. But harkye, you, I had best clear 
 myself to Thais about that girl, as she suspected that I 
 loved her. Gna, Not at all. Yea encrease the more that 
 suspicion. Thr. Why ? Gna. Do you ask ? Do you 
 know this? If at any time she makes mention of Phae- 
 dria, that she may sting you — Thr. I perceive. Gna, 
 That it may not be done, this thing done is the remedy. 
 When she shall name Phaedria, do you name Pamphiia 
 immediately. If at any time she shall say, let us intro- 
 duce Phaedria to sup with us, do you say, let us call 
 Pamphiia to sing. If she shall praise his handsomeness, 
 do you praise this girl's beauty on the other hand. Lastly 
 return like for like, which may gnaw her. Thr. If in- 
 deed she loved me, then that would be of service, Gnatho. 
 Gna. Since that which you give she waits for and likes, 
 already she loves you. Already it can be easy to do that 
 to her which may grieve her. She will always fear, lest 
 at any time in anger you may confer on another the pro- 
 fit which she herself now receives. Thr. You have said 
 well, but that had not come into my mind. Gna. Ridi- 
 culous ! For you had not taken thought 1 But by how 
 much better would you yourself have found out this same 
 thing, Thraso!— - 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 55 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Thais and Pythias from Thais's house.) 
 
 Thais. I seemed just now to hear the voice of the sol- 
 dier ! and behold him ! Your servant, my Thraso ! Thr. 
 
 my Thai?, my delight, how is it with you ? Do you love 
 me at all with respect to this music-girl ? Par. (aside) 
 How handsomely spoken ! What a beginning he has 
 given on his arrival I Tha. Very much, and as you de- 
 serve. Gna. Let us go therefore to supper. Why do 
 you stand still ? Par. (aside) Hal That other ! You 
 may say that he is born of man. Tha. When you will, 
 
 1 delay not. Par. (aside) 1 will address her, and pretend 
 as if I were only now going out. (Walking from Pha- 
 dria's door to Thais.) Thais, where are you about to go ? 
 Tha* O dear ! Parmeno, indeed you have done well. I 
 am about to go to-day. Par. Where? Tha. (pointing 
 to Thraso) What ? Do not you see him ? Par. I see 
 him, and it wearies me of him. When you wish, the 
 gifts are ready for you from Phaedria. Thr. Why do we 
 stop? Why do we not go hence? Par. I beg truly that 
 it may be lawful, what may be with your leave, Sir, to 
 give to her what we wish, to meet her, and speak with 
 her. Thr. I do believe your gifts are very handsome, 
 but not like mine. Par. The thing will shew. Hillo 1 
 there (knocks at the door). Command ye those whom I 
 have ordered, to go forth out of doors most speedily. 
 (Enter from the house the black girl and Ch&rea in the 
 Eunuch's habit with turban, pelisse, fyc. Parmeno calls to 
 the black girl) Do you come forward hither. This girl is 
 all the way from ^Ethiopia. Thr. (after looking at the 
 girl attentively) Here are three pounds. Gna. (after 
 turning the girl about two or three times) Scarcely. Par, 
 Where art thou, Dorus ? Come hither ! There see, a 
 Eunuch for yon ! With what a handsome face ! What 
 a compleat age ! Tha. So may the gods love me, how 
 handsome ! Par. What say you, Gnatho ? Have you 
 any thing that you may despise? But what do you say, 
 Thraso ? (A pause) They are silent. They praise him 
 enough. Try him in letters, put him in the palaestra, in 
 concerts of music, I will shew him skilled as to those 
 things which it is proper a liberal young man should 
 know. Thr. I would outdo that Eunuch, if there was 
 
56 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 occasion, even though he may be skilful. Par. (to TJiais) 
 And he that sent these gifts does not require that you 
 should live for him alone, and for his sake that others 
 should be excluded. Nor does he talk of his battles, nor 
 shews his wounds, nor opposes you as a certain man is 
 doing. But when it shall not be troublesome to you, 
 when you shall be willing, when you shall have an oppor- 
 tunity, he accounts it enough, if then he is received. Thr. 
 (to Gnatho) It appears that this is the servant of a mas- 
 ter poor and wretched. Gna. For certainty no one could, 
 as I well know, put up with him, who had wherewithal 
 to hire another. Par. Hold you your tongue, whom I 
 think to be below all the lowest of men. For that you 
 who can have brought your mind to flatter him, I think 
 could seek victuals out of the fire. Thr. (to Thais) Do 
 we go now ? Tha. I will take these in-doors, first, and 
 at the same time will order the things that I wish. After- 
 wards I go out hither immediately. (Exit Thais with the 
 slaves into her house.) Thr. {Followi?ig her steps and speaks 
 to Parmeno.) I am going from hence; wait thou for 
 her. Par. It is not decent that a commander appearing 
 in the public street should go along with his mistress. 
 Thr. Why may I say much to you ? You are like your 
 master. Gna. (laughing loud) Ha ! ha ! ha ! Thr. 
 What do you laugh at? Gna. That which you said just 
 now. And that saying concerning the Rhodian comes 
 into my mind. But Thais is going out of her house. 
 (Enter Thais and Pythias) Thr. (to a boy attending him) 
 Go away, run before, that things may be prepared at 
 the house. Gna. (to the boy) let it be done. (Exit boy 
 into the house) Tha. (aside to Pythias) See that you take 
 care diligently, if Chremes perchance shall' have come 
 hither, to entreat him, first that he may wait ; if that 
 is not convenient, that he may return again; if he shall 
 not be able to do that, bring him to me. Pyth. I will 
 do so. Tha. What ? What else have I wished to say ? 
 Oh ay ! Diligently attend ye to that virgin. Mind par- 
 ticularly that ye all be present at home with her. Thr. 
 Let us go. Tha. Follow me, pray. (Exeunt Thais 9 
 Thraso, Gnatho and Pythias into Thaiis house. Exit 
 Parmeno at the side scene.) 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 57 
 
 ACT III. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Chremes from the back Scene,) 
 
 Chremes. Verily by how much the more and more I 
 think to myself, this Thais in fact will give me much 
 trouble. I see myself so cunningly by her to be driven 
 from my purpose. Even then, when first she ordered me 
 to be called to her, if any one ask me what business have 
 you with her, I had known not indeed what to say. 
 When I came, she finds a cause, that I might wait there. 
 She says that she had been soothsaying, and that she was 
 willing to act with me a serious business. Already I had 
 a suspicion that all these things were done with bad de- 
 sign. She herself began to lie down near me, to give her 
 attention to me, to seek discourse with me. When this 
 grows cold, it went on in this way, how long ago my 
 father and mother might have died. I say to her, now a 
 long time. What piece of land I might have at Sunium, 
 and how fir from the sea. I believe that this pleased her. 
 She hopes that she can detach me from myself. Lastly, 
 whether from thence my little sister might have perished ? 
 Who was along with her ? What she might have had, 
 when she perished ? Who might be able to know her ? 
 Now why may she enquire these things ? Unless if she 
 by chance, as my little sister perished formerly, pretends 
 that she herself is her, as her audacity is. But that girl, 
 if she lives, has been born sixteen years, not older. 
 Thais is older than I am. She sent moreover to entreat 
 me seriously that I would come. Either let her say what 
 she wishes, or let her not be troublesome. I positively 
 will not come a third time. Hillo ! hillo ! (He knocks 
 at Thais's house.) who is here ? I am Chremes. (Enter 
 Pythias from Thais 's house) Pyth. (slapping his face 
 gently) Oh ! most funny little head ! Chr. I say that 
 snares are laid for me. Pyth. Thais did beg of you with 
 great earnestness that you would return to-morrow. Chr, 
 I am going to the country. Pyth. Do this, my dear. 
 Chr. I cannot, I say. Pyth, But stay with us here, until 
 she herself may return. Chr. It cannot be done. Pyth, 
 Why, my Chremes ? Chr, You will go hence to a bad 
 intention. Pyth. If that is so sure to you, my dear, con- 
 sent to go thither where she is. Chr. I go there. Pyth. 
 (speaking to the maid within) Go, Dorias, quickly lead 
 
58 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 him to the soldier. (Chr -ernes exit into Thais 1 s house, and 
 Pythias follows. ) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE IV. 
 Omitted in the Performance. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE V. 
 Omitted in the Performance. 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
 ACT. IV. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter DoniAsfrom Thais's house with a casket in her 
 hand.) 
 
 Doiias. So may the gods love me, as much as I saw 
 of that soldier, I am in misery and fear, lest he may, 
 mad as he is, make some disturbance to-day, or an out- 
 rage upon Thais. For after that the young man Chremes 
 came, who is the brother of the virgin, Thais asks the 
 soldier that he may order him to be admitted. He im- 
 mediately began to be angry, nor to dare to refuse. 
 Thais moreover began to press the matter, that he may 
 invite him. This she did for the sake of retaining 
 Chremes, because, as to those things which she was de- 
 sirous to discover to him concerning his sister, time had 
 not been given for that affair. In sadness he invites him. 
 Chremes remained there. She begins a discourse there 
 with him. The soldier began verily to think that a rival 
 was brought in before his eyes. He was willing to do 
 something spiteful to her in an opposite way. Harkye, 
 boy, says he, call Pamphila, that she may delight us 
 here. Thais exclaims, by no means. What, to call her 
 to a revel ! The soldier began to urge the matter. 
 Then they went to quarreling. In the mean time the 
 woman privately takes her gold, and gives it to me, that 
 I may carry it away. This, I know, is a sign, she will 
 withdraw herself from thence, when first she will have it 
 in her power, (Exit Dorias at the side scene.) 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 59 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter PHiEDitiA from the back scene,) 
 
 Phce. While I am going to the country, I began, 
 so as happens when I have any trouble in my mind, to 
 think with myself of one thing after another, and all 
 those things on the worse side of the question. What 
 need is there of words ? While I am thinking of those 
 things, unaware I went beyond the villa. I had now 
 gone away from it a good distance, when I perceived the 
 matter- I return again, in truth fretting myself. When 
 I came to the very turning of the roads, I stopped. I 
 began to think with myself. Well ! I must remain 
 alone here without her during two days. What then af- 
 terwards ? There is nothing to be done. What ? Noth- 
 ing? If there is not liberty of touching her, ah ! ah ! 
 will there not be liberty indeed of seeing her ? If it is 
 not lawful to do that, at least it will be lawful to do this. 
 Certainly the extreme line of loving is something. I 
 pass by the villa purposely. (Pythias rushes out) But what 
 is this that Pythias suddenly goes out in a fright ? 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE. III. 
 
 Pyth. {clapping her hands) Wretched as I am, where 
 shall I find that wicked and impious man ? Or where 
 shall I seek him ? That he should have dared to do this 
 so audacious a deed! I am undone (she weeps.) Pha?. (be- 
 hind) 1 fear what this may be. Pyth, Moreover also be- 
 sides that, the rascal, after he had sported with the virgin, 
 tore all the garment of the miserable girl, and then cut off 
 her hair. Phce. Oh ho ! Pyth. W T ho now, if he may, of- 
 fer himself before me, how readily can I fly with my nails 
 into the eyes of the sprite. Phce. (behind) A disturbance 
 certainly has been at home, while I was absent, I know not 
 what. 1 will accost her. (he goes up to her.) What is that ? 
 Why do you hurry? Or whom do you see, Pythias l^Pyth. 
 Alas, Phaedria, whom shall I seek? Get hence where you 
 are worthy to go with your gifts so improper. Phce. What 
 is that affair ? Pyth. Do you ask me ? As to the Eunuch 
 whom you gave us, what troubles he has given us ! He 
 has violated the virgin whom the officer had given as a 
 
60 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 present to my mistress. Phce. What do you say ? Pyth. I am 
 undone. Phce. You are in liquor. Pyth. I wish that those 
 who wish me evil, may be so. {Enter Dorias from the side 
 scene) Dor. Au ! I beseech you, my Pythias, what was that 
 strange affair ? Phce. You are mad. How could a Eu- 
 nuch do that? Pyth. I know him not who he might have 
 been. The thing itself shews this that he hath done. The 
 Virgin herself is weeping, and when you may ask her what 
 it can be, does not dare to tell. But that good man ap- 
 pears no where. Also I in misery suspect this, that he 
 took something from the house, when going away. Phce. 
 I cannot sufficiently wonder where that wretch can further 
 go away, unless he by chance returned home to us. Pyth. 
 Go to see, my dear whether he be there. Phce. 1 will make 
 you know it immediately [Exit Phcedria into his house.) 
 Dor. I am undone ! I beseech you, my heart, so wicked an 
 act I never indeed heard of before. But in truth I had 
 heard that those men were the greatest lovers of women, 
 but that they were impotent. But this had not occurred 
 to wretched me. For I would have shut him up some- 
 where, nor would have committed the virgin to him. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Phcedria from his house, with a rattan in one ha fid, 
 and with the other dragging in by the collar the Eunuch y 
 who is dressed tn Cheer ea^s coat.) 
 
 Phcedria, Get out of doors, you rascal ! (drags him. 
 further on) Do you keep back, you runaway I (dragging 
 him still) Go forth you ill-conditioned fellow I Eun. (p?i 
 his knees lifting his hands in supplication) I pray. Phce. 
 Oh ! See that ! how the hang-dog has distorted his face ! 
 What is this return hither ? What the change of garment I 
 What do you say? (to Pythias) If I had delayed a little 
 Pythias, 1 should not have found him at home, he had so 
 prepared his flight forthwith. Pyth. Have you the man, 
 my dear? Phce. Why may I not have him? Pyth. O 
 well done ! Dor. That indeed and in truth is well. Pyth. 
 Where is he ? Phce. Do you ask? Do you not see him ? 
 Pyth. See him ? I beseech you, whom ? Phce. (pointing 
 to the Eunuch) This man surely. Pyth. Who is this man ? 
 Phce. He who was conducted to you yesterday. Pyth. Never 
 any one of our women saw with their eyes this man, Phae- 
 dria. Ph<e. Not saw ? Pyth. Have you believed, I be- 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 61 
 
 seech you, that this man was conducted to us ? Phce. For 
 I had no other. Pyth. Au ! This man indeed is not to be 
 compared to the other. The other was of a handsome and 
 open countenance. Phce. So he seemed before now, be- 
 cause he was adorned with a different garment. Now he 
 appears ugly to you, because he has not that. Pyth. Hold 
 your tongue, I beseech you ; as if truly there be but little 
 difference. A young man was conducted to us yesterday, 
 whom you in truth would wish to see, Phasdria. This man 
 is ancient, wrinkled, weak, an old man, of a weasel colour. 
 Phce. Ha ! What is this story ? You reduce me to that 
 pass, that I myself know not what I brought, (striking the 
 Eunuch with his rattan.) Hillo ! you ! Have I bought 
 you ? Eun. {whining) You bought me. Pyth, Order 
 him to answer me again. Phce. Ask him. Pyth. Have 
 you come to-day to us? [Eunuch shakes his head) He 
 denies it. But that other came, born sixteen years, whom 
 Parmeno brought with him. Phce. {to the Eunuch) Harkye 
 now! Explain this thing to nie first; from whence have 
 you that garment which you wear ? {a pause) Are you 
 silent ? (strikes him with the rattan) Are not you to speak 
 you monster of a man ? Eun. (whining) Chaerea came.— 
 Phce. My brother? Eun. So. Phce. When? Eun. To-day. 
 Phce. How long ago ? Eun. Just now. Phce. With whom ? 
 Eun. With Parmeno. Phce. Had you known him before ? 
 Eun. No, nor had I ever heard it said who he was. Phce. 
 Whence therefore did you know that he was my brother? 
 Eun. Parmeno said that he was he. He gave me his gar- 
 ment. Phce. I am undone. Eun. He himself put on mine. 
 Afterwards both went out of doors together. Pyth. Do 
 you now enough believe that I am sober, and that I have 
 told no lies to you ? Is it now sufficiently certain that the 
 virgin was debauched ? Phce. (to Pythias) Come now, 
 you fool, do you believe him what he may say ? Pyth. 
 Why shall I trust him at all ? The thing itself shews it. 
 Phce, (to the Eunuch) Go that way a little. Do you hear? 
 Yet a little. It is enough. Speak of this again awhile ? 
 Hath Cheerea taken away your garment from you ? Eun, 
 It was done- Phce. And was he clothed with it? Eun. 
 It was done. Phce. And was he led hither instead of you? 
 Eun. So. Phce Great Jupiter, ! O wicked and audacious 
 man ! Pyth* Woe to me ! Now also do you not believe 
 that we have been deluded in unworthy ways? Phce. A 
 wonder if you do not believe what he says ! What I shall 
 do I know not. (to the Eunuch) Harkye ! Deny it again. 
 
02 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 Can I this day (switches him) cut out the truth out of 
 you ? Have you seen my brother Chserea ? Eun. No. 
 Phce. I see he cannot confess without punishment. Fol- 
 low me this way. Just now he says, and now denies. Im- 
 plore me, you. Eun. I implore you truly, Phaedria. Phce. 
 (dragging him by the collar to the door) Go in-doors. — 
 Eun. (groaning) Hoy ! Hoy ! (Exit Eunuch into Phar- 
 dria's house) Phce. By any other means I know not how I 
 can now honorably go away from hence. If it is really 
 done, shall you, you villain, here also play upon me ? — 
 (Exit Phcedria into his house) Pyth. {to Dorias) I as well 
 know that this is a trick of Parmeno, as that I live. Dor. 
 It is so. Pyth. I will certainly find something to-day 
 wherewith I may return him a like favour. But now what 
 do you advise to be done, Dorias ? Dor. Do you ask about 
 that virgin ? Pyth. Just so. Whether I may hold my 
 tongue, or publish it ? Dor. You certainly, if you are 
 wise, are to know not what you know, nor tell of the Eu- 
 nuch, nor of the violation of the virgin. By this matter 
 you will both extricate yourself out of all trouble, and you 
 will have done a grateful thing to her. Only tell it thus, 
 that Dorus has gone away. Pyth. I will do so. Dor. 
 (looking at Thais' s door) But do I see Chremes ? Thais 
 will presently be here. Pyth* Why do you think so ? Dor. 
 Because when I am departing thence, the disturbance had 
 even then bugun among them. Pyth. Do you take away 
 this gold. I will know from him what be the matter. 
 
 (Exit Dorias at the side scene* Pythias retires.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Chremes, from Thais 1 s house, drunk.) 
 
 Chremes. (talking to himself) Ay ! Ay ! Verily I have 
 been imposed upon. The wine I drank has overcome me. 
 But while I was lying down, how charmingly sober I 
 did seem to myself to be. After I rose up, neither my foot 
 nor my head does its duty properly. Pyth. (calling to him) 
 Chremes ! Chr. Who is it ? (looking about) Ah 1 ha ! 
 Pythias ! (staggers over to her) Hah ! How much hand- 
 somer you seem now than awhile since ! Pyth. Certainly 
 indeed you are in fact much merrier. Car. Verily this is 
 a true word, (hiccuping) without Ceres and Bacchus 
 Venus is frozen. But has Thais come here much before 
 
TERSNTII EUNUCHUS. 6S 
 
 me ? Pyth. Has she gone away from the soldier ? Chr. 
 Long ago — an age — The greatest quarrels have happened 
 between them. Pyth. Has she said nothing that you should 
 follow her ? Chr. Nothing ; unless that when going away 
 she nodded to me. Pyth. Oh hoh ! was not that enough ? 
 Chr. But I was ignorant that she said it, unless by reason 
 that the soldier found fault, which I understood not ; for 
 he pushed me out of the door. {Thais appears at her door) 
 But behold herself there. I wonder how I may have got 
 before her. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VI. 
 
 {Enter Thais and walks in front, not seeing them.) 
 
 Thais (talking to herself). I do believe indeed that Thrsao 
 will be here just now, to drag away that girl from me. 
 Well ! Let him come. But if he shall have touched her 
 with one finger, his eyes shall instantly be scratched out. 
 Hitherto I am able to bear his follies and bragging words, 
 while they may be mere words ; but in fact, if they shall 
 be brought to reality, he shall be flogged. Chr. (advanc- 
 ing to her) Thais, lam here for some time past. Tha. O 
 my Chremes, I was waiting for you yourself. Do you 
 know that this broil has been on account of you ? And 
 therefore that all this affair belongs to you ? Chr. To 
 me? How is that, I beg? Tha. Because while I am 
 desirous to give back and restore your sister lo you, I have 
 suffered many things, both these, and of this sort. Chr. 
 Where is she? Tha. At home with me. Chr. Ah ! Tha. 
 What is it ? She has been brought up so, as is worthy of 
 both you and her. Chr. What do you say ? Tha. That 
 which is the reality. Her I give as a present to you, nor 
 do I ask in return any price for her from you. Chr. (taking 
 her hand) The favour, Thais, is both estimated, and shall 
 be returned by me, so as you have deserved. Tha. But 
 indeed take care, Chremes, lest you may lose her, before 
 that you can receive her from me. For this is she whom 
 the soldier is now coming to drag away from me by force 
 (to Pythias.) Begone you, Pythias, bring the little box from 
 the house, together with the sign-tokens. Chr. (looking 
 towards the back scene) Do you see him there, Thais? Pyth. 
 (to Thais) Where is it placed ? Tha. In the trunk. Odi- 
 ous woman, are you delaying ? (Exit Pythias into Thais's 
 house.) Chr. (looking back) How great forces I see that 
 the soldier is bringing with him against you ! Ah ! Ah ! 
 Tha. Are you, I pray, apt to be frightened, my man ? Chr. 
 
64 TERENTII EUNUCHUS, 
 
 Get away with that. What I apt to be frightened ? There 
 is no one of men, that lives, less so. Tha, And so there 
 is need. Chr, Ah ! I fear what sort of a man you may 
 account me to be. Tha, Verily think of this. He is a fo- 
 reigner with whom you have to do, less powerful than yuo, 
 less known, having fewer friends here. Chr. I know that; 
 but it is foolish to admit into your mind, what you can ea- 
 sily guard against ; I had rather that we should look for- 
 ward, how we can punish this man, injury being received 
 from him. Do you go away, and bolt the door within, while 
 I run across from hence to the forum. I wish that advocates 
 were present here with us in this broil {lie is going, she 
 catches his arm.) lha. Wait. Chr. It is the better thing. — 
 7 ha. Stop. Chr, Let me go. I will be here in an instant. 
 Tha. There is no need of those. Only say this, that she 
 is your sister, and that you lost her when a small virgin, 
 and that you have now found her out. Shew the sign-tokens. 
 (Enter Pythias from Thais' 's house) Pyth. Here they are. 
 Tha, (handing them to Chr ernes) Take them. If he shall 
 make an assault, conduct the man to justice. Have you 
 understood me? Chr, Very well. Tha. Take care that 
 you say these things with courage. Chr. I will do so. — 
 Tha* Raise your cloak on you (aside), I am lost. There 
 is need of a protector to this very man whom I get as a de- 
 fender to me. {They go into Thais' s house, and the door is 
 shut. They presently open the window that is over the door, 
 and putting their heads out, await the attack there together.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VII. 
 
 (Enter at the back scene Thraso and Gnatho with drawn 
 swords, attended by Sanga dressed as a cook with white 
 nightcap, white apron, and black jacket, followed by a 
 raggamuffin rabble with red nightcaps, torn jackets, some 
 without coats, with coblers straps, and mallets in their 
 hands, armed with frying-pans, gridirons, spits, pokers, 
 fyc. — They slowly advance, Thraso and Gnatho marshalling 
 them in line as they come up.) 
 
 Thraso, (flourishing his sword) What, that I, Gnatho, 
 am to receive this so signal an affront upon me ! It is better 
 that I should die ! (calling loudly) Simalio, Donax, Sy- 
 riscus, follow me (the three advance from the ranks.) First 
 I will storm the house. Gna. Rightly done. Thr, I will 
 drag away the virgin. Gna, Good 1 Thr, I will beat the 
 
TERENTII EUNUOHUS. 65 
 
 woman dreadfully. Gna. Finely done. Ph<z. Donax, go 
 upon the centre of the troop with your crow-bar ; you 
 Simalio, on the left wing ; you, Syriscus, on the right. 
 {They take their place ^ in a soldierly manner.) Bring me up 
 the others. Where is the Centurion, Sanga, and his company 
 of thieves? {Sanga advances from the banditti.) San. (roll- 
 ing himself for mar d) See him, here he is ! Thr. What 
 you sluggard ! Are you thinking to fight with your linen 
 apron, who bring it hither ? San. What I? I had known 
 the valour of the commander, and the violence of the sol- 
 diers ; that this matter could not be done without blood ; 
 I am the man who should wipe their wounds. Thr. Where 
 are the others ? San. What others, a curse? Sannio alone 
 keeps matters at home. Thr. Do you draw up these men 
 in this place; I will be behind the first ranks. From thence 
 I will give the signal to all. Gna. That is to be wise [aside)* 
 As soon as he hath drawn up these he himself looked to 
 himself for a safe place. Thr. (strutting and flourishing 
 his sword.) This same exploit now Pyrrhus performed. — 
 Chr. (to Thais) Do you see, Thais, what affair this man 
 is at ? Certainly that counsel is right about fastening up the 
 doors. Tha. In truth, however he may seem to you now 
 to be a man, he is a complete bully. Fear him not. Thr. 
 {to Gnatho) What seems to you to be done? Gna. I should 
 much wish that a sling was now given to you, that you 
 might strike them hence afar from an ambush,- They would 
 take to flight, Thr. {looking up at the window) But be- 
 hold her ! I see Thais herself. Gna. {stamping forward 
 with a noise) Now forward we rush on ! {They all stamp 
 forward at the signal with a great noise) Thr. (aloud) 
 Halt. It becomes a wise commander to try all things be- 
 fore that he acts with arms (to Gnatho). How do you know 
 whether or no she may do without force what I may order? 
 Gna. Gods and faith ! How great a matter it is to be wise ? 
 I never approach you but I go away more learned from you, 
 Thr. Thais, answer me this first ; when I am giving you 
 that virgin, have you said, that you would give these days 
 to me alone? Tha. What then afterwards? Thr. Do 
 you ask ? you who brought your lover to me in presence 
 before my eyes ? Tha. What have you to do with him ? 
 Thr. And withdrew yourself from me secretly along with 
 him ? Tha, It pleased me so. Thr. Therefore give back 
 Pamphila hither, unless you had rather that she be snatch- 
 ed away by force. Chr. May she give her back to you, 
 or may you touch her, you scoundrel ? Gna. (to Chremes) 
 
 F 
 
66 TERENTII EUNUCHIJS. 
 
 Ah ! What are you about ? Hold your peace. Thr. 
 (coming towards Chremes) What do you want for your- 
 self? Shall I not touch her who is my own ? Chr. 
 Yours indeed you hangman ? Gna. (to Chremes) Be 
 careful, you ! you know not what a man you may naw be 
 abusing. Chr. (to Thraso) Do you not depart from 
 hence ! Do you know how the thing is in respect to you ? 
 If you shall have begun here any fray to-day, I will make 
 you remember ever this place, and day, and also me. 
 Gna. It pities me of you who can make this so great a 
 man an enemy to you. Chr. I will break your head to- 
 day, unless you go away ! Gna. Do you say so, you vile 
 dog? Thus do you do? Thr. (marching up to Chremes 
 under the window) What man art thou ? What do you 
 want to yourself? What have you to do with her? 
 Chr. You shall know. In the first place I say that she is 
 a free girl. Thr. Hah ! Chr. A citizen of Attica. Thr. 
 Heighday ! Chr. My sister. Thr. An impudent face ! 
 Chr. Soldier, I therefore now tell it you openly, lest 
 you may make any assault upon her. Thais, I am going 
 to Sophrona the nurse, that I may bring her here, and 
 shew these sign-tokens. Thr. May you hinder me, that 
 I may not touch her who is my own? Chr. I will hinder 
 you, I say. Gna. (to J^hraso) Do you hear him ? He 
 impeaches himself of a robbery. This is enough for you. 
 Thr. Do you say this same thing, Thais? Tha. Go, ask 
 about. (Chremes and Thais retire from the window, and 
 it is shut) (a pause). Thr. (To Gnat ho J What do we 
 do now ? Gna. (slowly sheathing his sword) Why then, 
 let us go home. She will immediately be with you, sup- 
 plicating you of her own accord. Thr. Do you believe it? 
 Gna. Yes, certainly ; I have known the disposition of 
 woman. They are unwilling when you may be willing ; 
 when you may be unwilling, they of their own accord de- 
 sire the matter. Thr. You think well. Gna. Do I now 
 dismiss the army ? Thr. When you will. Gna. (to 
 Sanga) Sanga, so as becomes brave soldiers, make your- 
 self remember your home and hearth in its turn. San. 
 Long since my mind is fixed upon my dishes. Gna. 
 You are thrifty. San. (aloud) All of you follow me this 
 way. — (Sanga marches at the head of the troops round by 
 the front of the stage, and exit with them at the back 
 scene. The man that singly closes the rear of the proces- 
 sion, stumps along with a wooden leg. While they are 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 67 
 
 marching, Thraso and Gnatho exeunt at the back scene. — 
 Exeunt omnes.) 
 
 END OF THE FOURTH ACT. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Thais from her house and Pythias.) 
 
 Thais. Do not you continue, you wicked woman, to 
 speak with me in this perplexed manner, saying, I know, 
 and I do not know, he went away, I heard, and I was 
 not present ? Are you not about to tell me openly that 
 matter, whatever it is? The virgin with her garment 
 torn, and shedding tears, keeps silence. The Eunuch has 
 departed. On what account? What has been done? 
 Are you silent? Pyth. What shall I say to you, wretched 
 as I am ? They deny that he was a Eunuch. Tha. Who 
 was he therefore? Pyth. That Chaerea. Tha. What 
 Chaerea ? Pyth. That lad, the brother of Phaedria. 
 Tha. What do you say, you witch ? Pyth. But 1 found 
 it for certain. Tha. Why, I pray, hath he come to us ? 
 For what reason was he brought to us ? Pyth. I know 
 not, unless, I believe that he loved Pamphila. Tha. Ah ! 
 I am undone, wretched and unhappy, if indeed you re- 
 port those things true. Does the virgin weep at that? 
 Pyth. At that, 1 think. Tha. What do yon say, you 
 wretch ? have not I warned you as to that, when I was 
 going away hence? Pyth. What could I do ? So as you 
 ordered, she was trusted to him alone. Tha. Wicked 
 woman ! You committed the sheep to the wolf. It 
 shames me that a deceit has been put upon me thus. 
 (looking at the side scene) What man is there? Pyth. 
 O my mistress, be silent ! Be silent, I beseech you ! we 
 are safe. We have the man himself. Tha. Where is he ? 
 Pyth. Hah! at the left hand, do you see him? Tha. I 
 see him. Pyth. Order him to be seized as soon as possi- 
 sible. Tha. What shall we do with him, you fool you ? 
 Pyth. Do you ask what you may do ? See, my dear, 
 though his face does not seem impudent when you look at 
 him, yet is he not an impudent man? Then, what an 
 assurance is really his ? (They stand aside.) 
 r l i 
 
68 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Chorea at the side scene, in the Eunuch's dress, 
 turban, Sec.) 
 
 Cha?rea. At Antipho's house, where I fled, each, his 
 father and mother, as if on purpose, were at home, so 
 that I could by no means enter, but they could see me. 
 In the mean time, while I stand before the door, a certain 
 acquaintance comes to meet me. When I saw him, I 
 took to my heels as fast as I am able, into a certain de- 
 serted narrow alley ; from thence also into another ; then 
 into another. Thus most unhappy I was, in flying away, 
 lest any one should know me. [Looking about.) But is this 
 Thais, whom I see? it is she herself. I am in doubt" 
 what I shall do. But what is it to me ? What will she 
 do to me ? Tha. [to Pythias) Let us go up to him. 
 (They go near him) O good man, Dorus, your servant! 
 tell me, have you run away? Cha. Mistress, it was 
 done. Tha, Is that very agreeable to you? Cha?. It is 
 not. Tha. Do you believe that you will be unpunished ? 
 Cha. Pass by this one fault. If I shall ever have com- 
 mitted another, destroy me. Tha. Whether have you 
 feared my severity? Cha?. I have not. Tha. Why 
 therefore ? Cha?. (pointing to Pythias) I feared her, lest 
 she should accuse me to you. Tha. What had you 
 done ? Chce. A certain small matter, Pyth. Ah ! ha ! a 
 small matter, you impudent man ? Does this seem to 
 you a small thing to debauch a virgin, a citizen ? Cha?. 
 I believed her to be a fellow- servant. Pyth. A fellow- 
 servant ! I scarcely contain myself, but to fly upon your 
 head of hair, you monster ! (She Jiies at him but is 
 stopped by Thais) Does he come also of his own accord to 
 deride us? Tha. Get along hence, madwoman! Pyth. 
 Why so in truth ? I believe, even if I may have done 
 that, I can owe something still to that ruffian ; especially 
 when he can confess that he is your servant. Tha. Let 
 us dismiss these things. Chaerea, you have done a thing 
 unworthy of yourself; for if I am worthy of this con- 
 tumely in the greatest degree, but still you are unworthy 
 nevertheless who should do so. Nor in truth do I know 
 what counsel I may now take concerning that virgin, you 
 have so disturbed all my plans, that I cannot deliver her 
 up to her friends so as it had been right, and as I was de- 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 69 
 
 sirous to do, that I might gain for myself this solid be- 
 nefit, Chaerea. Chce. But now from henceforth I hope 
 that eternal kindness will be between us, Thais. Often 
 from some affair of this sort, and from a bad beginning, 
 great friendship has been completed. What if some 
 god intended this thing? Tha. Indeed truly upon that 
 consideration I both accept of it, and wish it. Chce. Yes ; 
 so I beseech you, know this one thing, that I have not 
 done this act for the sake of contumely, but of love. 
 Tha. I know it ; and indeed on that account I now par- 
 don you the more. I am not of a disposition so unkind, 
 Chaerea, nor am I so unskilled, that I can be ignorant 
 how love may prevail. Chce. I also do love you now, 
 Thais, so may the gods love me. Pyth. Then faith, 
 mistress, I do understand that you must take care of 
 yourself from him. Chce. I would not dare. Pyth. (to 
 Cheered) I trust nothing to you. Tha. (to Pythias) Be 
 quiet. Chce. Now I beseech you in this affair, that you 
 may be an assistant to me ; I recommend and commit 
 myself to your faith ; I take you, Thais, as a patroness 
 to me. To you I supplicate ; I shall die if I shall not 
 have married her. Tha. Nevertheless if your Father — 
 Chce. What? Ah ! he will be willing, I know for certain, 
 if she only be a citizen. Tha. If you are willing to wait 
 a little while, the brother of the virgin will now himself 
 be here; he went to call the nurse who suckled her when 
 she was little. You yourself shall be present here, 
 Chaerea, in the recognition. Chce. I in truth wait here. 
 Tha. Are you willing in the mean time, until he comes, 
 that we wait at home, rather than here before the door ? 
 Chce. Yes, I very much desire it. Pyth. I beseech you, 
 what thing are you about to do ? Tha. Well, why so ? 
 Pyth. Do you ask? Do you think to receive him into 
 the house henceforward ? Tha. Why not? Pyth. Trust 
 this to my faith, he will make some battle here again. 
 Tha. Au ! be silent, pray ! Pyth. You seem little to 
 have seen through his audacity. Ch&. I will not do any 
 thing, Pythias. Pyth. I do not truly believe it, Chaerea, 
 unless if it shall not be committed. Chce. But, Pythias, 
 do you yourself guard me. Pyth. Neither in fact can I 
 dare to give any thing to be guarded by you, nor to guard 
 you. Get away from me ! (She pushes him away) Tha, 
 (looking towards the side scene) Her brother himself is here 
 most opportune. Chce. I am truly undone ! I beseech 
 you, let us go within-doors, Thais. I am unwilling that 
 
70 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 he may see me in the street with this garment. Tha. On 
 what account then ? Whether because it shames you ? 
 Chce. The very thing. Pyth. The very thing? The vir- 
 gin in truth ! Tha. (to CJuerea) Go before, I follow you. 
 (Cheer ea exit into Thais' s house) Do you, Pythias, stay 
 there, that you may conduct Chremes with-in doors to 
 me. (Exit Thais into her house). 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE III. 
 
 Pythias (talking to herself). What? What can now 
 come into my mind ? What but how I can return the 
 favour to that rogue who foisted this youth upon us ? 
 (Enter Chremes from the side sce?ie, holding under his arm 
 the old nurse Sophrona, who hobbles very slowly.) Chr. 
 Truly move thyself faster, nurse \ Soph, (with a tremul- 
 ous voice) I do move myself. Chr. I see, but you do not 
 get on. Pyth. (Jo Chremes) Have you shewn now the sign- 
 tokens to the nurse? Chr. All of them. Pyth. My 
 dear, what does she say? Does she know them? Chr. 
 They are in her memory. Pyth. Indeed you say well ; 
 for I like that virgin. Go ye in-doors. Long ago my 
 mistress expects you at home. (Chremes and Sophrona 
 go into Thais's house.) Pyth. (looking towards the back 
 scene) I see, behold that good man Parmeno marching 
 on here. See how he walks at his leisure; please the 
 gods! I hope that I shall have someway, how I may 
 torture him in my own manner. 1 will go within-doors, 
 that I may know surely about the recognition. I will go 
 out afterwards and terrify this rogue. 
 
 (Exit Pythias into Thais's house.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Parmeno from the back scetie, and walks slowly 
 towards Ph^dria's house.) 
 
 Parmeno. I come back to see what matter of his af- 
 fairs Chaerea may be carrying on here. But if he has 
 managed the affair with cunning, gods and faith, how 
 great and how true praise will Parmeno receive. For 
 setting aside that I have made up for him a most diffi- 
 cult love, and one most scarce from that covetous 
 harlot, that virgin whom he loved, without trouble, with- 
 out cost, without expence ; then there is this other thing, 
 -and that truly is what I think my chief glory, (Pythias 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 71 
 
 slips out of Thais' s house and stands by the door of it) 
 that I have found in what manner a young man could be 
 able to know the dispositions and manners of harlots; 
 that when he shall have known them well he may for ever 
 hate them. Who while out of doors, nothing seems 
 cleanlier, nor any thing more complete, nor more ele- 
 gant. Who, when they sup with their lover, are pick- 
 ing nice bits. To see their dirt, and filth, and want, 
 how abominable they can be when alone at home, and 
 how greedy of food; in what a way they can devour 
 black bread out of yesterday's broth ; to have known all 
 these things, is a cure to young men. Pyth. {aside) Ve- 
 rily I will punish you, you villain, for those your words 
 and deeds, that you may not have played your tricks upon 
 upon us without punishment. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Pythias rushes from her door, as if just come out, running 
 to the front, and clapping he?' hands) 
 
 Pythias. Oh ! faith of gods ! A vile deed ! Oh ! unhappy 
 young man ! Oh ! wi ;ked Parmeno, who brought him 
 hither ! Par. {behind) What is that ? Pylh. It pitieth me for 
 him, and so, that I might not see it I miserable fled out ot 
 doors hither. What unworthy testimonies they say are about 
 to be On him! Par, (behind) O Jupiter ! What is that disturb- 
 ance ? Am I undone ? I will go up to her {he advances.) 
 What is that, Pythias? What are you saying? On whom 
 will these testimonies be made? Pyth. Do you ask? O most 
 audacious man ! You have destroyed that youth, whom 
 you brought for a Eunuch, while you are trying to deceive 
 us. Par. Why so? Or what hath been done ? Tell me. 
 Pyth. {sighing) I will say it. Do you know that Virgin, 
 who was given a present to-day to Thais, that she is a 
 citizen from hence ? And that her brother is noble among 
 the first ? Par. 1 know it not. Pyth. But so she has 
 been found to be. That wretched youth violated her. — 
 When that brother discovered that it was done, a most 
 furious man — Par. What hath he done ? Pyth. He tied 
 him in a wretched way. Par. Tied him ? Pyth. And 
 that even notwithstanding Thais beseeching him that he 
 would not do it. Par. What do you say ? Pyth. Now 
 he threatens moreover that he will do that, which is used 
 to be done, to adulterers; which I have never seen, to be 
 
72 TERENTII FUNUCHUS. 
 
 done, nor can I ever wish to see. Par. With what audacity 
 does he dare to do so great an outrage ? Pyth. Why so 
 great ? Par. Is not this the greatest ? What man ever 
 saw any one to be seized in a harlot's house for an adulterer ? 
 Pyth. I know not. Par. But lest you may be ignorant 
 of this, Pythias, I tell, and I tell itoutto you, that this is my 
 master's son. Pyth. Ah ! Ah ! I beseechjyou, is it he ? Par. 
 Let not Thais suffer any assault to be made upon him. 
 But on that account also why do I not myself go in-doors 
 here? (He goes towards Thais' s door) Pyth. See, Par- 
 meno, what you may be about, lest you may neither profit 
 him, and you may perish ; for they think this, that 
 whatever was done, that sprung from you. Par. What 
 therefore shall I wretched do r Or what shall I begin 
 with ? (He looks towards the back scene) But behold I see 
 the old man returning from the country. Shall I tell it 
 him, or not? 1 will tell it him verily j although I know 
 that a great calamity is prepared for me. But it is neces- 
 sary, that he may come to his relief. Pyth. You are wise. 
 I am going away in-doors; do you tell him all the affair 
 in order, how it may have been done (Exit Pythias into 
 Thais's house and the door is shut. Parmeno goes aside 
 near Thais's door.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Enter Lachus from the back scene, and walks slowly to the 
 front.) 
 Lachus, From this my country farm near at hand I receive 
 this advantage, that neither dislike of the field, nor 
 of the city ever possesses me. When a weariness 
 begins to happen, I change my place [looking towards 
 Thais's door.) But is that our Parmeno ? And certainly it 
 is he himself. Whom do you wait for, Parmeno, here before 
 the door ? Par. (looking about) What man is here ? Ah ! 
 master, 1 rejoice that you have arrived safe. Each. Whom 
 do you wait for ? Par. (aside) I am lost. My tongue 
 sticks fast with fright. Each. Ah ! hah ! W T hat is it ? — 
 Why do you tremble ? Are the women quite well ? Tell 
 me. Par. O master, I may wish first that you judge of 
 that, which is the real matter. Whatever of this has been 
 done, has not been done with my fault. Each. W T hat ? 
 Par. Rightly indeed you asked the question. It behoved 
 me to have told you the affair before-hand. Phaedria 
 bought a certain Eunuch, whom he might give to her. 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 73 
 
 Lack. To whom? Par. To Thais. Lack. He bought 
 him? lam undone truly. At what price? Par. For 
 twenty pounds. Lack. It is done then. Par. Chaerea 
 then falls in love with a Music girl. Lack. Hah ! What ! 
 Fall in love ! Whether does he know what a harlot may 
 be? Or hath he come into a snare? One evil out of 
 another. Par. Master, look not at me j he does not do 
 these things, me being his adviser. Lack. Omit to talk 
 of yourself. I will punish you, you hang-gallows, if I 
 live. But first explain that matter whatever it is. Par. 
 He was conducted to this Thais for that Eunuch. Lack, 
 For the Eunuch? Par. So it is; afterwards they sized 
 him within for an adulterer, and have tied him. Lach. 
 I am undone. Par. See the audacity of harlots ! Lach, 
 Is there any thing else remaining of calamity or damage, 
 which you may not have told ? Par. It is only that. 
 Lach. Do I delay to break in hither? (Lachus bursts into 
 Thais's house, and slaps the door after him) Par. It is not 
 doubtful but there may be great calamity to me out of 
 this affair, but at any rate it was necessary to do this. I 
 rejoice at that, that some evil is about to happen to these 
 women on account of me. For the old man was seeking 
 this long time past some cause, wherefore he should do 
 some notable thing against them. Now he finds it. (Par- 
 meno retires.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE VII. 
 
 Enter Pythias from Thais's house.) 
 
 Pythias Never any thing truly this long time happened 
 to me, which I should more wish to happen, than that the 
 old man man, mistaking the matter just now came in-doors 
 to us. It was ridiculous to me alone, who knew what he 
 could be afraid of. Par. (behind) But what is this? Pyth. 
 Now I go forth for that business, that I may meet Par- 
 meno {looking about.) But where is he, I pray ? Par. 
 {behind) She is seeking me. Pyth. And behold I see him. 
 I will go up to him (she goes towards him laughing heartily.) 
 Par. What' is it, foolish woman? What do you want 
 for yourself? Why do you laugh ? {she laughs the more) Do 
 you persist ? Pyth. I am lost. I am now wretched tired 
 with laughing at you. Par. Why so ? Pyth. Do you 
 ask ? I never faith saw a sillier man, nor shall see. Ah ! 
 It cannot be told enough what sports you may have afforded 
 
74 TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 us within. But at first I even believed you to be a cun- 
 ning and witty man. What? Hath it behoved you in- 
 stantly to believe those things that I told you? Whether 
 did it repent you of the crime which the young man had 
 done, you being his adviser, but you should over and above 
 also discover the wretched lad to his father ? For, what 
 do you believe his mind was then, when his father saw him 
 to be clothed in that garment ? What ? Do you now 
 know that you are undone ? [she laughs) Par. Hah ! What 
 have you said, vilest woman ? Have you told a lie ? Are 
 you still laughing ? Hath it seemed so witty a thing to you, 
 you wretch, to laugh at me ? Pyth. It is too good. Par. 
 If indeed you shall have carried off that unpunished. Pyth. 
 It is true. Par. I will repay it certainly. Pyth. I believe 
 so. But perhaps, Parmeno, that which you threaten is at a 
 distant time. You will now be in suspense, you who make a 
 foolish young man remarkable with crimes, and discover of 
 the same young man. Each will make examples upon you. 
 Par. I am annihilated. Pyth. This honor is got by you 
 for that gift. I am off. (Exit Pythias into Thais 's house J 
 Par I myself wretched have perched this day, as it were a 
 rat, by my own making a mark of dsscovery. [Parmeno 
 stands aside by Phtfdria's door.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE VIII. 
 
 (Enter Gnatho and Thraso from the back scene, and ad- 
 vance together half way to the front.) 
 
 Gnatho. What is there now? With what hope, or with 
 what intention do we go hither? What are you under- 
 taking, Thraso? Thr. I undertaking? That I may sur- 
 render myself to Thais, and do what she may order. — 
 Gna. Why is it thus? Thr. Who besides Hercules 
 was subservient to Omphale ? Gna. The example pleases 
 me. I wish that I may see your head stroked with her slip- 
 per. But the doors have creaked from her house. Thr. 
 {looking at the door) I am lost. What evil truly is this 
 now ? I had nejfeer seen this man also with her. Why 
 does he spring forward here in haste ? 
 
TEEENTII EUNUCHUS. IB 
 
 ACT V. SCENE IX. 
 
 {Enter Chorea from Thais's house, skipping along.) 
 
 Chatrea. O my neighbours, what man lives to-day more 
 fortunate than me ? Certainly not any one ; for in me 
 the gods have plainly shewn all their power, to whom so 
 suddenly so many advantages can have arisen. Par. (aside) 
 Why is he so joyful? Cha?. (seeing Parmeno) O my Par- 
 meno, O ihou of all my pleasures the inventor, the begin- 
 ner, the finisher, do you know me in what joys I may be? 
 Do you know that my Pamphila has been found to be a 
 citizen? Par. I have heard It. dice. Do you know that 
 she is my bride ? Par. Well done, so may the gods love 
 me ! Gna. (behind) Do you hear what he says ? Ch&. 
 (to Parmeno) But then I rejoice that my brother Phaedria's 
 love is all in tranquillity ; we have one and the same 
 house; Thais has recommended herself to my father; 
 he hath given himself into patronage and confidence with 
 us. Par. Thais therefore is entirely your brother's. Cha?. 
 By all means. Par. And now there is this other thing 
 which we may rejoice at; the soldier is expelled out of 
 doors. Cha?. Then you, as soon as possible, cause that 
 my brother, wherever he is, may hear these things. 
 Par. I will seek for him at home. (Exit Parmeno into 
 Phcedria's house) Thr. (to Gnatho) Do you doubt at all, 
 Gnatho, but that I have now fallen forever? Gna. With- 
 out doubt, I think, due. (speaking to himself) What 
 can I speak of first? Or praise the most? Him, who 
 gave me the counsel that I should do it, or myself who can 
 have dared to begin it? Or may I praise my fortune, 
 which was the directress, who concluded so many, so great 
 affairs, so opportunely on one day ? Or the pleasantness 
 and facility of my father ? O Jupiter, preserve 1 beseech 
 you, these good things to us ! 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE X. 
 
 (Enter PhjEdiua from his house.) 
 
 Phcedria. Gods and faith ! What incredible things 
 Parmeno has just told me ! (Looking about) But where 
 is my brother ? Cha?. (slapping him on the shoulder) He 
 is here at hand. Pha. (shaking him by the hand) I re- 
 
76 TERBNTII EUNUCHUS. 
 
 joice. Cha?. I will believe it. Nothing, brother, is more 
 worthy of being beloved, than this your Thais, she is so 
 much a favourer of all our family. °Ph<e. Heyday ! Do 
 you praise her to me ? Thr. {behind) I am done for ! by 
 how much there is less of hope, by so much the more I 
 am in love. I beseech you Gnatho ; in you is my hope. 
 Gna. What are you willing that I may do ? Thr. Bring 
 this to pass by prayers or reward, that I may remain in 
 some way or other with Thais. Gna. It is a difficult 
 thing. Thr. If it hath been pleasing to you any way, I 
 have known that you are able to do it. If you shall have 
 effected this, wish thou for any gift or reward from me, 
 and you shall have that which is wished for. Gna. Is it 
 so? Thr. So it shall be. Gna. If I effect this, I require 
 that your house may be open to me, you being present 
 or absent, so that there may be room always for me in- 
 vited to it. Thr. I bind myself that it shall be so. Gna. 
 I will be prepared. Phce. (turning ruund) Whom I do 
 hear taking here? O Thraso. Thr. All hail ye ! Phce. 
 You perhaps know not those things that have happened 
 here. Thr. I know them. Phce. Why therefore do I see 
 you in these quarters? Thr. I am depending upon you. 
 Phce. Do you know how you are depending? Soldier, I 
 give you notice, if I shall have found you in this street 
 ever after this, and that you may say to me, I was seek- 
 ing another man, and took my course this way, thou art a 
 lost man. Gna. Come now, it does not become you to 
 act thus. Phce. It has been said. Gna. I do not know 
 that you are so proud. Phce. So it shall be. Gna. Hear 
 ye this first in a few words ; which, when I shall have 
 said, if it shall have pleased you, do so. Phce. Let us 
 hear it. Gna. Do you go a little that way, Thraso. 
 (T/iraso goes away to the side scene ) In the first place, I 
 would earnestly wish that ye both would believe me as to 
 this, that, whatever I may do of this matter, I do it most 
 certainly for my own sake. But if this same thing in 
 question is of profit to you, it is folly that you should not 
 doit. Phce. What is it? Gna. I think that the soldier 
 your rival is to be received. Pha?. Hah ! to be received ? 
 Gna. Think only this. You truly live with her, Phsedria, 
 both gladly, and also provide a maintenance very gladly. 
 What you can give, is very little; it is necessary that 
 Thais should receive much, that she may be able to give a 
 supply to your affection without any cost of yours. There 
 is no one more opportune than he to do all these things, 
 
TERENTII EUNUCHUS. 77 
 
 nor more for your advantage. In the first place, he both 
 has what he may give, and no one gives more plentifully. 
 He is foolish, absurd, stupid, and is snoring night and 
 day. Nor may you fear him, lest the woman may love 
 him ; you can drive him away easily, when you may 
 wish. Phce. (to Cheer ea) How do we act ? Gna. Besides 
 there is this also, which I think even the chief thing. 
 No man receives better profit directly, nor longer con- 
 tinued than you. Phce. It is a wonder if there is not need 
 of this man on whatever account. Chce. I think the same 
 thing. Gna. Ye do rightly. This one thing also I en- 
 treat of you all, that ye may receive me into your flock. 
 A very long time now I am rolling this heavy stone. Phce. 
 We do receive you. Chce. And willingly. Gna. But, 
 Phaedria, and thou, Chaerea, I in return for that offer 
 this man to you, to be eaten up, and to be laughed at. 
 Chce. It pleases me. Phce. He is worthy of that. Gna. 
 (calling out) Thraso, approach when you will. (Thraso 
 comes up to them) Thr. I beseech you, how are we going 
 on? Gna. How? They did not know you. After that 
 1 shewed to them your elegant manners, and praised you 
 according to your deeds, and your virtues, I have ob- 
 tained what I asked. Thr. You have done well. I have 
 the greatest gratitude. I have never even been any where, 
 but that all would love me very much. Gna. (to Phce. 
 dria and Chcerea) Have I told you this, that in him was 
 real Attic elegance ? Phce. Nothing beyond that has been 
 promised. Gna. Go ye this way. ( To the audience). Fare- 
 well ye, and clap your hands. 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 CHARACTERS IN THE COMEDY. 
 
 Micio, — an elderly gentleman, wild and benevolent. 
 Demea. — an old man, Micio's brother, severe, passion- 
 ate, and ill-natured. 
 JEschinus, — a young man, Demea's son, adopted by 
 
 Micio. 
 Ctesipho, — a young man, another son of Demea. 
 SanntOy — a pimp, and slave-merchant. 
 Syras, — a crafty servant, belonging to Micio. 
 Sostrata — a matron and widow, mother to Pamphila. 
 Pamphildy — a young woman Sostrata's daughter. 
 Geta, — Sostrata's servant. 
 Dromo, — a servant in Micio's house. 
 Hegio, — an old gentleman. 
 
 MUTE CHARACTERS. 
 
 Babylo, — a servant. 
 
 Storax, — a servant. 
 
 Parmeno, — a servant. 
 
 A music-girl, Ctesipho's mistress. 
 
79 
 
 THE ARGUMENT, OR STORY OF THE ADELPHI. 
 
 MICIO and Demea are two old men, brothers, most 
 dissimilar in temper. Micio lived a city life, a batchelor, 
 of disposition mild and forgiving. Demea, on the con- 
 trary, led a rustic life in the country, had married a wife, 
 was severe, morose, and of a furious and angry temper. 
 Demea had two sons, of whom the elder, iEschinus, was 
 adopted by Micio, and educated by him in the city with 
 the greatest indulgence. The younger son, Ctesipho, was 
 kept in the country by his father, and severely and rigidly 
 treated. iEschinus was a young man of licentious habits, 
 among harlots, and given to all sort of extravagance. 
 Micio, who was fond of him, connived at these courses. 
 At length iEschinus forced and debauched a young woman, 
 Pamphila by name, good, and of good family, who lived 
 with her mother Sostrata, a widow in poor circumstances, 
 and who had been educated by her modestly and carefully. 
 As she proved with child by him, he came to the mother, 
 begging forgiveness, and promised faithfully that he would 
 marry her. This did not transpire at first. Ctesipho 
 coming into the city fell in love with a music-girl, slave to 
 a pimp ; the latter wanting the price of her in hand, and 
 threatening otherwise to sell her to another, Ctesipho was 
 thrown into despair, and thought to fly from his country. 
 iEschinus undertook to get her for him, broke open the 
 pimp's house, beat him and his family, snatched away the 
 girl, and gave her to his brother. The report is spread 
 abroad, and Demea comes to Micio, abusing iEschinus 
 for the outrage, and reproving Micio passionately as the 
 very cause of all by suffering the proffligacy of iEschinus; 
 he praises his own son as good, thrifty, and temperate, 
 Micio tries to appease him. Now a new trouble arises; 
 the report of iEschinus's exploit comes to the ears of Sos- 
 trata the mother of Pamphila, and she supposed that he 
 had broke his faith. Pamphila being at this time actual- 
 ly seized with labour pains, Sostrata sends her servant 
 Geta to Hegio, a relation of the girl, to tell the whole 
 matter to him. In the mean time Demea had heard that 
 Ctesipho was engaged in seizing the music-girl along 
 with j^Eschinus, and being enraged, is changed in opinion 
 
80 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 by a lie of Syrus, a crafty servant, who tells him that 
 Ctesipho came and reproved iEschinus for his conduct. 
 He cries for joy of Ctesipho's goodness. Demea return- 
 ing to the country meets Hegio, who informs him of Pam- 
 phila having been debauched by iEschinus. He seeks 
 his brother to vomit out his anger upon him. Seeing 
 Syrus he is deceived with another lie, and Syrus directs 
 him where to find his brother in such a way, as to send 
 him all round the town in vain. In the mean time Micio, 
 informed by Hegio of every thing, goes to the women, 
 comforts them in their affliction, and promises he will 
 consent to Pamphila's being married to JEschiuus. De- 
 mea meeting with Micio, now gives him more abuse. 
 Syrus had got drunk with merry-making in Micio's house, 
 and when in the street with Demea, a servant comes 
 from the house, and names Ctesipho, upon which Demea 
 rushes into the house, and finds Ctesipho, who he thought 
 was in the country, amusing himself with his mistress. 
 In rage he rushes out, and vociferates. At length, by the 
 firmness and mildness of Micio he grows composed, and 
 on reflection changes his ferocious manners into benignity 
 and affability. By his orders the lying-in woman is to be 
 brought from her house to Micio's house, and her whole 
 family, and the marriage to take place without delay of 
 ceremonies. Micio is persuaded by him and ^Eschinus to 
 marry Sostrata. A farm is to be given to Hegio. Syrus 
 and his wife Phrygia are both made free. iEschinus asks 
 Demea what will be done with regard to his brother ; 
 Demea gives permission that he may have the girl. 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 (ScEXE—a Street in Athens — Houses and Temples — 
 Mich's house on one side, and Sostrata's on the other, 
 with their doors opposite.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Micio from his house — the door is left open, he 
 turns about, and calls.) 
 
 Micio. Storax 1 {he knocks the stage with his stick.) 
 Storax ! (a pause — he walks to the front, and the door is 
 shut) iEschinus hath not returned this night from supper, 
 nor any of the servants who had gone to meet him. In 
 fact they say this with truth, if you be absent any where, 
 or if you delay where you like, it is better that those 
 things should happen which your wife alleges against 
 you, and which she in anger thinks in her mind, than 
 those which fond parents think concerning you. If you 
 may delay abroad, your wife thinks either that you are 
 in love, or that you yourself are beloved, or that you 
 drink, and are following your inclination, and that you 
 alone have satisfaction, when she herself has vexation. 
 Now, what things do I think of, because my son has not 
 returned. With what things I am now made uneasy, 
 lest he may have been either in pain, or have fallen 
 down any where, or may have fractured his limbs in some 
 way. Alas ! that any man should adopt in his affection or 
 place there, that which is dearer, than he is to himself. 
 And this youth is not born from me, but from my 
 brother. That brother is of a dispositiou very unlike 
 mine. Now ever since my youth 1 have followed this tran- 
 quil city life and leisure, and what they think a fortu- 
 nate thing, I never had a wife. He on the other hand 
 o 
 
82 TFRENTII AD1LPHI. 
 
 had all these things. Leading a life in the country, al- 
 ways conducting himself sparingly and hardly. He mar- 
 ried a wife. Two sons were born. Then I adopted this 
 elder son to myself. I brought him up from a little boy ; 
 I esteemed and loved him as my own. In him I delight 
 myself; that alone is dear to me. That he may behave 
 thus also to me, I diligently endeavour. I give to him ; 
 I pass by faults; I do not think it necessary to carry on 
 all things according to my authority. Lastly, those 
 things that other fathers cause secretly to be done, which 
 young age is given to, I have accustomed my son not to 
 conceal those things from me. For he who may have 
 been accustomed to tell lies, or to deceive his father, or 
 shall dare to do it, so much the more will he dare to de- 
 ceive other men. To govern children by a sense of shame 
 and with liberality, I do believe to be more satisfactory, 
 than by fear. These things do not agree with nor please 
 my brother along with me. He often comes to me ex- 
 claiming, " what are you doing, Micio?" Why are you 
 destroying our young man? Why is he loving women? 
 Why does he drink? W 7 hy do you supply the cost for 
 these things? You indulge him in too much apparel. 
 You are too silly. — Fie is himself too rigid beyond what 
 is just and good. And in my opinion in truth that man is 
 widely mistaken, who can believe that the authority which 
 is established by force is weightier and stronger than that 
 which is gained by friendship. My way of thinking is 
 thus, and thus I persuade my mind. Compelled by se- 
 verity who does his duty, while he thinks that business is 
 openly known, in so great degree he is cautious ; if he hopes 
 it will be secret, again he returns to his inclination. That 
 man, whom you may make a friend by a benefit conferred, 
 acts from his own mind, studies to return a like benefit ; pre- 
 sent and absent he will be the same. This is the part of a 
 father to accustom his son of his own accord to ace properly, 
 rather than by fear of another. In this both the father and 
 the master is concerned. He that cannot do this, may 
 confess that he understands not to govern his children. — 
 (looking towards the back scene) But is this the very man 
 of whom I was treating ? And certainly it is he. I know 
 not why I see him sorrowful. I believe now he will scold, 
 as he is wont. (Demea comes tip from the back scene, hobbling 
 hastily along) I rejoice that you arrive in good health, 
 Demea. 
 
TERENTII ADELPHT. 83 
 
 ACT. I. SCENE II. 
 
 Demea. Oho ! Well met ! I am seeking for you your- 
 self. Mic. Why are you sad ? Bern. Do you ask me that, 
 when we have that JEschinus, why I may he sad ? Mic. 
 I said it would be thus. * What hath he done? Dem.What 
 may he havedone ! whom it neither shames as to any thing, 
 nor does he fear any one, nor does he think that any law res- 
 trains him. For I omit those things which were done before 
 this; what a prank hath he played just now ! Mic. What 
 is that ? Dem. He broke open doors, and burst into another 
 man's house. The master himself and all the family he beat 
 almost to death. He snatched away the woman whom he 
 loved. All men exclaim that it was most scandalously done. 
 How many, Micio, have told this to me coming here ! It is 
 in the mouth of all the people. Lastly, if an example is to be 
 brought, does he not see his brother giving attention to 
 the property, staying in the country sparing and sober? 
 Nothing done like this — When 1 say these things to him, 
 Micio, I say them to you ; you permit him to be corrupt- 
 ed. Mic. Never was any thing more unjust than a man of 
 no knowledge, who thinks nothing right unless what he 
 himself hath done. Dan, How is that? Mic- Because 
 you, Demea, judge these things wrong. It is not a base 
 crime, believe me, that a young man should go wenching, 
 nor that he should drink ; it is not — nor that he should 
 break open doors. These thing* if neither I nor you have 
 done, poverty suffered not us to do so ; you now account 
 that as praise to you, which then you did from want. It is 
 not right for you to do so. For if there were the means 
 whence it could be done, we should do it. And you 
 should suffer that son of yours, if you were a man, to do it 
 now while by reason of his age it is proper, rather than when 
 he had got rid of you long looked for, he should doit never- 
 theless afterwards at a more unfitted time of life. Dem. O 
 Jupiter ! You man drive me to madness ; is it not a base 
 crime that a young man should do these things ? Mic. 
 Ah ! Listen. Bear me not down so often about this matter. 
 You have given your son to me to be adopted. He hath 
 become mine. If he is in fault in any respect, Demea, he is 
 in fault to me. I will bear the chief part towards him. Does 
 he buy provisions ? Does he drink ? Docs he scent of 
 g 2 
 * It was acted, Dixi in hoc fore. 
 
84 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 perfumes ? It is at my cost. Does he love women ? Money 
 will be given by me, while it will be convenient ; when it 
 will not be so, perhaps he will be shut of doors. Hath he 
 broke open doors, they shall be restored. Hath he torn a 
 garment, it shall be made good. I have, thanks to the gods, 
 both the means whence these things may be done, and as 
 yet they are not inconvenient. Lastly, either desist or 
 give me any judge of the matter ; I will shew that you do 
 wrong very much in this affair. Dem. Alas me ! Learn to 
 be a father from those who truly know it ! Mic. You are 
 a father to him by nature, I by good counsels. Dem. Do 
 you counsel any thing ? Mic. Ah! If you persist, I shall 
 have departed. Dem. Do you do thus? Mic. Whether 
 shall 1 so often hear concerning the same thing ? Dem, 
 It is of concern to me. Mic. Also it is of concern to me. 
 But let us attend to an equal part each of us ; do thou at- 
 tend to the one, I will attend to the other. For to take care 
 of both, is nearly to require back him whom you have given. 
 Dem. Why then ! If that pleases you, let him squander, 
 destroy, perish, it belongs not at all to me ! Now if one 
 word hereafter — Mic* Again, Demea, are you angry ? Dem* 
 Do you not believe me ? Do I ask back him whom I gave ? 
 It is abominable. I am not unattached to him. If I op- 
 pose (lowering his voice) Well ! I desist. You are 
 
 willing I may attend to one of them. I do attend to him. 
 And I have thanks to the gods, since it is so as I choose. 
 That one of yours will himself feel the matter at a later 
 time. I am unwilling to speak more severely against him. 
 (Exit Demea at the back scene.) Mic. These things which 
 he says are not entirely nothing, nor all true. Nevertheless 
 these things are somewhat troublesome to me. But I was 
 unwilling to shew to him that I bore them ill at ease. For 
 so is the man, when I am to appease him, I am to oppose 
 him strongly, and deter him from his rage. But notwith- 
 standing, he scarcely bears things as a man should. But 
 if I may encrease, or even be an abetter of his wrath, I 
 shall in reality be mad along with him. However iEschi- 
 nus in this affair does make some injury towards us. What 
 harlot hath he not loved, or to which of them hath he not 
 given something? Lastly he hath lately said, and I believe 
 now it wearied him of them all, that he was willing to 
 marry. I was in hopes that this youth had now grown 
 cool ; I was rejoicing. But behold, all renewed again. — 
 But whatsoever it is, I wish to know it, and to meet the 
 man, if he is at the forum. (Exit Mico at the bach scene,) 
 
TERENT1I ADELPHI. 
 
 85 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Sannio at the back scene with a rabble. jEschinus 
 follows handing in a young lady, the Music-girl, and attend" 
 ed by a footman. iEscniNUS and his party advance on 
 one side of the stage, Sannio and mob on the other. 
 
 Sannio. I implore you, neighbours, bring assistance to a 
 wretched and innocent man ; give aid to a poor man. JEsc. 
 (holding the girl's hand and speaking to her.) Be at your ease. 
 Now immediately stop here, (she looks behinl her in a fright) 
 Why do you look back? There is nothing of danger; 
 never, while I shall be present, shall this man touch you. 
 San. I will have her, in spite of you all. JEsc. Though 
 he is nefarious, he will not commit any thing to-day at any 
 time, so that he may again be flogged. San, iEschinus, 
 hear me, and that you may not say that you are ignorant 
 of my ways, I am a pimp. JEsc. I know it. San. But so 
 as it was to me every where, one of the best confidence. — 
 You, that you may clear yourself at a later time, will say 
 that you are unwilling that this iujury was done (he snaps 
 his fingers.) I will not matter it this much. Believe thou, 
 this, I will pursue my own right. Nor shall you pay off 
 with words ever, what you may have done me of mischief 
 in reality. I have known these words of yours; I would 
 not wish it had been done; an oath shall be given that you 
 are unworthy of this injury. When I myself have been 
 received with unworthy dealings. JEsc. (to the footman) 
 Go stoutly before, and open the doors. San. (going between 
 the servant and Micios's door) But you do not do this. 
 JEsc. (to her) Go within immediately now. San. (standing 
 with his elbows out to stop the way) But truly 1 would not 
 suffer it. JEsc. Approach here, Parmeno; you went too 
 far from him. Stand here close by him (Parmeno goes up 
 to Sannio.) Well, so I wish. Take care how you remove 
 your eyes now this moment any where from my eyes, lest 
 there be a delay if I should nod to you, that your fist must 
 instantly be fastened on his jaw. San. I wish therefore to 
 try that very thing. JEsc. Ha ! Watch him (Sannio catches 
 the girVs arm, aiid Parmeno gives him a blow on the face). 
 Let go the women. San. (letting her go) O unworthy deed 1 
 JEsc. He shall double it unless you take care. San. Woe 
 to wretched me ! JEsc. (to Parmeno) I had not nodded to 
 you. But nevertheless it is rather a fault on the proper 
 
SG TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 side [to her). Go now at once {the Music-girl and Parmeno 
 go into Micio's house). San. What affair is this ? Do you 
 possess a kingdom here, iEschinus? JEsc. If I should 
 possess it, you should be trimmed according to your merits. 
 San. What business have you with me ? JEsc. Nothing. 
 San, What? Have you known who I may be? jEsc. 
 I do nqt desire it. San. Have I touched any thing of 
 yours? JEsc. If you would have touched any thing, yoo 
 would suffer a calamity. San. How is it the more lawful 
 for you to have my slave for whom I paid money ? Answer 
 me. JEsc. It will not be better for you to have carried on 
 railing here before the houses; for if you persist to be 
 troublesome, you shall now be dragged away within-doors, 
 and there shall be covered with whips almost 10 death. San. 
 With whips? A free man? JEsc. So it shall be. San. 
 
 the base man ! Do they say here that liberty is equal 
 to all men ? JEsc. If you have raged now sufficiently, 
 Pimp, hear me, if you wish, now directly. San. But have 
 
 1 raged, or you raged against me ? JEsc. Set aside these 
 things, and return to the business. San. What business? 
 Where must I return ? JEsc. Do you wish me now to 
 say that which appertains to you ? San, I do desire it, only 
 something of what is just. JEsc. Heigh-day, a Pimp is un- 
 willing that I should speak unjust things ! San. I am a 
 pimp, I confess, the common ruin of, young men, perjured, 
 and a pest ; yet no injury to you hath sprung from me. JEsc. 
 For certainly this also remains at the end of it. San. I 
 request, return there, iEschinus, where you began. JEsc. 
 For twenty pounds you bought that girl, may which trans- 
 action turn out badly to you ! So much money shall be 
 given. San. What, if I am unwilling to sell her to you, 
 will you force me? JEsc. By no means. San. (with a 
 bullying voice) For I was afraid of that. JEsc. Nor <\o I 
 think that she is to be sold, who is free. For I support 
 her with all my strength in a liberal cause. Now see which 
 of the two you choose, either to receive the money, or to 
 think upon your cause. Debate this within yourself till I 
 return, pimp. [Exit JEschinus into Micio's house) San. O 
 lofty Jupiter ! I do not wonder at these who begin to be 
 mad from injury. He dragged me out of my house, he 
 flogged me, he run away with my slave against my will. On 
 account of these outrages, he requires her to be delivered 
 to him bought at so much as I gave (he scratches his head.) 
 He inflicted five hundred blows and more on me a wretch- 
 ed man. But truly, says he, since he well deserved it, let it 
 
TERENTII ^DELPHI. 87 
 
 be done, since he is requiring his right. Well ! I am now 
 desirous to give her up, if he may only give back the money. 
 But I am conjecturing these things. When I shall have 
 said that I give her for so much, he will bring witnesses 
 instantly that I had sold her ; about the money, a mere 
 dream. Return by and by, or to-morrow. That also I 
 can bear, if he may only give back the money, although it 
 is injurious. But I am to think now of that which is the 
 real thing They will say, when you may have begun that 
 trade, the injury of young men, is to be received and borne 
 in silence. But no one will give ihe money, as I fear. In 
 vain I think of these reasonings within myself. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Syrus from Micw's house. The door is kepi open, and 
 he turns about, and talks to JEschinus within. J 
 
 Syr. Be silent, I will meet the man himself. Let him 
 eagerly hear that I shall have done it for him, and also let 
 him say that it has been generously acted with him [he goes 
 up to Saf/nio and the door is shut. J What is that, Sannio, 
 which I hear, that you, I know not for what, have contended 
 with my master ? San. I never saw a contention more un- 
 equally carried on together than this was between us to- 
 day. I with being flogged, and he with beating me, are 
 both of us actually tired, Syr. It was your own fault. San. 
 What shonld I do ? Syr. It behoved you to comply with 
 theyoung man. San. How could I do better, who to-day al- 
 ways offered my face to be buffeted ? Syr. Mind now, do 
 you know what I shall speak ? To neglect money in the 
 proper place, is sometimes the greatest gain. What ! have 
 you feared, if you had given up a little from your right, and 
 had complied with the young man, O thou most foolish 
 man of all men, lest he should not pay it back with interest? 
 San. I do not purchase hope with a price. Syr. You never 
 will make a property. Get you gone ; you know not how 
 to entrap men, Sannio. San. 1 believe that it was the bet- 
 ter way ; yet 1 never was so crafty, but I would choose ra- 
 ther to carry away whatever I could at the present time. 
 Syr. Well, well, I have known your inclination ; now as if 
 you had twenty pounds any where, until you agree with 
 him. But besides, they say thai you are going to Cyprus. 
 San. Ah ! ha ! Syr. That you have bought many things 
 which you could carry hence thither. That a ship has been 
 
88 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 hired. This I know, your mind is in suspence. When 
 you shall have returned from thence, as I hope, yet you will 
 mind this matter. San. Never a foot shall I move, (aside) 
 I am lost certainly ; they began this matter with this hope. 
 Syr. (aside) He is in a fright. I have thrown a scruple on 
 the man. San. (aside) O wicked schemes ! see that cir- 
 cumstance, how he has oppressed me in the very nick of 
 time. Very many women have been bought, and also 
 other things which I am carrying hence to Cyprus. Unless 
 I go there to traffic, there is the greatest loss to me. Now 
 if I omit this matter, I shall have the business all over; 
 when I shall have returned from thence, there is nothing; 
 the thing will have grown cold ; now at length do you 
 come? why have you suffered it? where were you ? I 
 think it may be better to lose it, than either to remain 
 here so long, or at that time to pursue the matter. Syr. 
 Have you now summed up that which you think will return 
 to you? San. (aloud) Is this a worthy thing of him? that 
 iEschinus should attempt this thing ? that by oppression 
 he may require to snatch her away from me! Syr. (aside) 
 He totters. (Aloud) I have this one thing for you. See 
 if it pleases you well ; rather than you may come into peril, 
 Sannio, whether you may keep, or lose the whole, make it 
 half price. Ten pounds he will scrape up somewhere. 
 San. Alas me ! even from necessity wretched as I am, I am 
 becoming doubtful now. It shames him not. He has 
 knocked out all my teeth. Besides this, {whining) my 
 whole head is swelled with blows. May he cheat me still 
 more? no where do I go from hence. Syr. Just as it 
 pleases you. Do you wish for any thing, but that I may 
 depart? Sa?i. (in a coaxing voice.) Yes truly, I request 
 this, Syrus. However these things have been done, rather 
 than I may proceed to law, let him render to me my due, 
 at least the price as much as she was bought for. Syrus, I 
 know that you have not before this experienced my friend- 
 ship, (he puts money in his hand) you shall say that I am 
 mindful and grateful. Syr. I will do it diligently, (looking 
 at the back scene). But I see Ctesipho. He is joyful about 
 his mistress. San. What will you do as to that which I 
 am entreating ? Syr. Wait a little while. ( They go aside.) 
 
TERENTII AD L*HI. 89 
 
 ACT II. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Ctesipho. from the back Scene, rubbing his hands 
 in great joy.) 
 
 Ctes. From any man whatever, when there is need, you 
 may rejoice to receive a kindness, but indeed and truly 
 that is chiefly pleasant, if he, whom it is incumbent 
 on to do it, acts with kindness. O my brother, my brother, 
 how may I now praise thee ? Enough I know for certain, 
 I can never say any thing so greatly of you, but your 
 goodness can exceed it. And so I think that beyond other 
 men I account this one thing the principal, that a brother 
 is to no man more the author of chief good than to me. 
 Syr. (coming up to him) O Ctesipho ! Ctes. O Syrus, where 
 is jEschinus? Syr. As to him, he waits for you at home. 
 Ctes. Oh dear ! Syr. What is it ? Ctes. What may it be ? 
 By his endeavour, Syrus, I now am alive. What a 
 charming disposition! that moreover he had thought all 
 things regarding himself to be inferior, in favour of my 
 advantage. He hath transferred to himself abuse, report, 
 my love, and crime. Syr, Nothing could be done beyond 
 that. Ctes. Why is there a creaking at the doors there ? 
 Syr. (looking at Micids door) Wait ! wait ! he himself is 
 going out of doors. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter JEschinus, from Micios's house.) 
 
 JEsc. Where is that scoundrel ? San. (skulks behind Sy- 
 rus.) He is seeking me. Does he bring out any thing? 
 lam undone. I see nothing. JEsc. (to Ctesipho) Oh ! oh! 
 opportunely met ! I am seeking you yourself. What is 
 done, Ctesipho? All our affair is in safety. Verily lay 
 aside your sadness. Ctes. I truly and verily Jay aside that, 
 who have you indeed my brother; O my iEschinus ! O 
 my brother! Ah ! I fear to praise you more in your pre- 
 sence before your face, lest that you may think that I do 
 that for the sake of flattering, more than that I hold my- 
 self grateful. JEsc. Come, come, silly man, as if wc now 
 knew not ourselves among ourselves, Ctesipho. This 
 grieves me, that we had not known almost too late, and 
 had almost come into that situation, that if all men should 
 
90 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 desire it, they could not be able to assist you. Ctes. {holding 
 down his head) it did shame me. JEsc. Ah! that is folly, 
 not shame. On account of so trifling an affair almost to 
 fly away from your native place ! It is a vile thing to be 
 told. I pray the gods, that they may hinder those things. 
 Ctes. [modestly) I have done wrong. JEsc. {to Syrus) What 
 at length says Sannio to us? Syr. He is humble now, 
 JEsc. I will go to the Forum, that I may pay him off. Do 
 you, Ctecipho, go in-doors to her. San. (to Syrus.) Dun 
 him, Syrus. Syr. (to JEschinus.) Let us go, for this man 
 is hastening to Cyprus. San. Not so indeed, although I am 
 waiting here idle. (Exit JEschinus at the back scene.) Syr. 
 It shall be given you, do not fear. San. But that he may 
 give it all. Syr. He will give it all. Only hold your 
 peace, and follow me this way. San. I follow you. (As they 
 are going towards the back scene, Ctesipho calls out-) 
 Ctes. Harkye, harkye, Syrus! Syr. ( going bach to him.) 
 Well, what is it? Ctes. I beseech you truly, pay off that 
 most rascally man, as soon as possible ; lest if he be more 
 irritated, this thing may someway flow out to my father, 
 and I then shall have perished eternally. Syr. It will not 
 happen. Be of good courage! Do you in the mean time 
 delight yourself with her within, and order the small 
 couches to be laid down for us, and other things to be 
 prepared. I immediately, business having been transacted, 
 will return home with provisions. Ctes. So, I request. 
 Since this matter hath succeeded well, let us make this a 
 jolly day. (Exeunt Syrus and Sannis at the bach scene. Exit 
 Ctesipho into Micio's house.) 
 
 END OF THE SECOND ACT. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Sostrata arid Canthara from Sostrata's house.) 
 
 Sos. I beseech you, my nurse, what now shall be done? 
 Can. Properly indeed I hope. Sos. O thou my dear 
 woman, sure her pains are just now first beginning. Can. 
 Now at once you are frightened, as if you had never been 
 present at a lying-in, and you yourself had never lain in. 
 Sos. Wretched me ! I have no one. But Geta is not 
 present here j nor any one whom I may send to the mid- 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 91 
 
 wife, nor any one who may call iEschinus. Can. Truly 
 indeed he will be present here immediately ; for he never 
 intermitts one day, but he must always come. Sos. He 
 alone is the remedy of all my miseries. Can. From the 
 affair sprung up it could not better happen than has hap- 
 pened, Mistress. Since force has been offered to her, as 
 far as chiefly applies to him, that he should be such a man, 
 of such a sort and disposition, born of so great a family. 
 Sos. It is really so, as you say. I beseech the gods, that 
 he may be safe to us. {They retire some way back.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Geta hastily from the side scene, without seeing the 
 two women. He goes to the front, and hurries from side 
 to side.) 
 
 Get. Now there is that circumstance, in regard to which, 
 if all men may bring together all their counsels, and may 
 seek a cure for this calamity, they can bring to us no 
 assistance, which matter is both to me, and my mistress, 
 and to my mistress's daughter* Woe to wretched me ! So 
 many affairs suddenly beset us, from whence it cannot be 
 emerged, force, poverty, injustice, loneliness, infamy. O 
 this age ! O vile crimes ! O villainous race of men! O this 
 impious man ! Sos. (behind.) Me miserable ! what is it 
 that I see Getha, thus frightened and in haste? Get. 
 Whom neither faith, nor an oath, nor pity restrained, nor 
 turned back, nor that her lying-in was close at hand, to 
 whom wretched woman he had unworthily offered violation 
 by force. Sos. (behind) I do not sufficiently understand 
 those things which he may speak of. Can. I beseech you, 
 let us approach nearer, Sostrata. (They come near him.) 
 Get. Ah ! me miserable, I am scarcely in my senses, I so 
 burn with anger. There is nothing which I may wish 
 more, than that the whole family were presented before 
 me, that I may vomit out all this anger upon them, while 
 this misfortune is recent. I can account it punishment 
 sufficient for me, while I can shew revenge only against 
 them. First, I would extinguish the life of the old man 
 himself, who produced that villain. But then, as to Syrus 
 the instigator, ah ! in what ways I would tear him ! I 
 would first catch him up aloft by the middle, and would 
 throw him head formost against the ground, that he may 
 sprinkle the way with his brain. I would pluck out the 
 
92 TERENTII /DELPHI. 
 
 eyes of the young man himself, afterwards I would cast 
 him headlong. The rest of them I would rush upon, 
 drive along, drag away, beat down, and knock down flat. 
 But do I delay to acquaint my mistress speedily with this 
 misfortune ? (he goes towards Sostrata? s door J Sos. Let us 
 call him back ! Geta ! Get. Ha ! whoever you are give 
 me leave. Sos, I am Sostrata. Get. (turning about) 
 Where is she? I seek you yourself. I wait for you. Very 
 opportunely you offered yourself, mistress, meeting me. 
 Sos, What is it? why do you tremble ? Get. Alas me ! 
 Sos. Why do you hasten, my Geta ? recover your breath. 
 Get. Entirely. Sos. What is therefore that word entirely? 
 Get. We have perished. It is over. Sos. Speak out there- 
 fore, I beseech you, what it may be. Get. Now. Sos. What 
 is now Getha ? Get. iEschinus. Sos. What is he doing 
 therefore? Get. is alienated from our family. Sos. Hah ! I 
 am lost. Wherefore? Get. He has begun to love another 
 woman. Sos. (clapping her hands) Woe to me miserable ! 
 Get. Nor does he carry it secretly. He himself snatched 
 her away from a pimp openly. Sos. Is this sufficiently 
 certain ? Get. Certain. I myself saw it with these eyes, 
 Sostrata. Sos. Ah ! wretched me ! what may you believe 
 now? or whom may you believe? (weeping) that our iEs- 
 chinus should behave thus, the life of as all to us, in whom 
 all our hopes and powers were placed, who used to swear 
 that he without her would never live one day, who used to 
 say that he would place his child in the bosom of his own 
 father, to beseech him so that it might be lawful to marry 
 her ! Get. O my mistress, leave off your tears, and more- 
 over look forward rather to that which is needful to this 
 affair. May we suffer it patiently, or declare it to any 
 one? Can. Au ! my man, are you in your senses? Does 
 this seem to you best to be made public any where ? Get. 
 It does not please me indeed. Now in the first place, the 
 thing itself shews that he is alienated from us. Now if we 
 bring forward this openly, he will deny it, I well know. 
 Your reputation, and the life of your daughter will come 
 to a hazard. Then if he may confess it in the amplest 
 manner, when he can love another, it is not advantageous 
 that she should be given to him. On which account by 
 every means there is need of silence. Sos. Ah I by no 
 means ,* I will not do it. Get. What will you do ? Sos. I 
 will make it known. Get. Ah ! ha ! my Sostrata, take 
 care, what thing you may do. Sos, The affair cannot be 
 in a worse situation, than in this wherein it is now placed. 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 93 
 
 In the first place, she is unportioned ; then besides, that 
 which was a second portion to her, has gone away. She 
 cannot be given in marriage for a virgin. This is re- 
 maining to us. If he shall deny it, a witness is a ring in 
 my possession, which he had lost. Lastly, when I am 
 conscious to myself, that this fault was far from me, that 
 neither price nor any thing valuable accrued unworthy of 
 her to me, Geta, I will try the resolution. Get. (coming 
 nearer her) What is it there ? I approach, that you may 
 speak more effectually. Sos. Do you depart as soon as 
 you can, and tell the whole affair in order to Hegio her 
 relation, for he was the greatest friend to our Simulus, 
 and cultivated our friendship very particularly, Get. For 
 truly no one else regards us. (Exit Getha at the side scene) 
 Sos. Hasten thou, my Canthara; run, call the midwife, 
 that when there be need, she may not be in delay to us. 
 (Exit Sostrata into her house; exit Canthara at the back 
 scene.) 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Demea from the side scene 9 hobbling slowly in 
 meditation. J 
 
 Dem. I am lost. I have heard that my son Ctesipho 
 was along with iEschinus in the carrying off the woman. 
 That calamity is still remaining to wretched me, if he is 
 able to seduce him, who is of some consideration, him also 
 to wickedness. Where shall I seek him? I do believe he is 
 led away into a brothel somewhere. That profligate per- 
 suaded him, I well know. (Micio's door opens and Syrus 
 appears) But behold I see Syrus going out there. From 
 this quarter I shall know now, where he may be. And 
 truly this man is of that flock, if he shall have perceived 
 that I am enquiring of him, the villain will never tell me. 
 I will not shew that I wish for that. (Demea retires a little 
 way back.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Syrus from Micid's house, and walks to and fro 
 in front. The door of the house is left open.) 
 
 Syr. (Talking to himself J The whole affair, in what 
 manner it was, I tell just now in order to the old man 
 
94 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 I never saw any thing more joyful ! Dem. (behind) O 
 Jupiter! the folly of the man! Syr. He praised his son; 
 to me, who had given that counsel, he gave thanks. Dem. 
 I am torn to pieces ! Syr. He counted out the money 
 forthwith, and gave besides half a pound to lay out. That 
 has been truly expended according to my opinion. Dem. 
 {behind) Ah ! hah ! if you may wish to have any thing 
 well taken care of, commit it to him. Syr. {looking about.) 
 Oh! ho! Demea, I had not seen you. What is doing? 
 Dem. What may be doing? I cannot sufficiently wonder 
 at the way of living amongst you. Syr. It is really silly, 
 that I may not speak with falsity, and absurd. (He turns 
 and speaks to a servant within the house.) Clean those 
 other fishes, Dromo. Suffer that very large conger-eel to 
 play awhile in the water. When I shall have returned, it 
 shall be roasted. Before that I do not choose it. Dem. 
 (with gravity and shaking his head) These dreadful crimes ! 
 Syr. {turning to Demea) They do not please me indeed, 
 and I often exclaim, (he turns again to the door) Stephanio, 
 make these seasoned force-meats be chopped up nicely. 
 (He turns again to Demea) Dem. Gods and faith ! Whether 
 has he that as a satisfaction to himself, or does he think that 
 it will be a praise, if he shall have ruined his son ? Woe to 
 me miserable! I now seem to see that day, when in want 
 he will fly hence somewhere to enlist as a soldier ! Syr. O 
 Demeo, that is to be wise, to see not only what is before 
 your feet, but to look forward also to those things that are 
 to be in future. Dem. What? is that Music-girl now in 
 your house? Sy. It is true that she is within. Dem. Tell 
 me, is he to have her at home? Syr. 1 believe so, as the 
 madness is. Dem. That these things should be done ! 
 Syr. The foolish lenity of the father, and his wrong easiness 
 of temper. Dem. Of my brother indeed it shames and 
 grieves me. Syr. There is very much difference between 
 you both, Demea, and I do not say this because you are 
 here present, there is an excessive great difference indeed ! 
 Thou, how great, how greatly great, are nothing but 
 wisdom. He, a mere phantom. Would you in truth suffer 
 that son of yours to do these things? Dem. Would I suffer 
 him? or would I not have smelt it out six whole months, 
 before that he may have begun any thing? Syr, Do you 
 relate to me your watchfulness ? Dem. 1 request only that 
 it may be always so as it is now. Syr. As every one is 
 willing that his own should be, so he is. Dem. What as 
 to him ? have you seen him to day ? Syr. Your son ? (aside) 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 95 
 
 I will drive him off to the country. ( To Demea) I think 
 he is long since doing something in the country. Dem. Do 
 you know for certain that he is there? Syx. Oh ! Whom 
 I myself conducted forth. # Dem. (aside) It is very well. I 
 feared he would hesitate here. Syr. He attacked his bro- 
 ther at the forum in a quarrel about that Music-girl. Dem. 
 Do you actually say so ? Syr. Ah ! He was not at all silent 
 on the matter, for, as the money was counted, by chance 
 unforeseen the man comes upon us. He began to exclaim, 
 
 ^Eschinus, that you should do these enormities ! That 
 you should commit these acts unworthy of your race ! Dem. 
 {stamping with his feet in joy) Oh ! Oh ! I weep for joy ! 
 Syr. You not only lose this money, but your life. Dem. 
 May he be safe, I hope. He is like his ancestors. Syr. Heigh- 
 day ! Dem. Syrus, he is full of those precepts. Syr. Poo ! 
 Poo ! He had him at home, from whom he might learn. 
 Dem. It is done diligently. I pass by nothing. I put him 
 in a regular habit. Lastly, I ordered him to look into the 
 lives of all men as into a mirror, and from others to take ex- 
 ample for himself. Do thou this. Syr. Right indeed. 
 Dem. Avoid thou this. Syr. Craftily. Dem. This is a 
 praise. Syr. That is the very thing. Dem. This is granted 
 to be a vice. Syr, Excellent. Dem. But moreover--*Sz/r. Really 
 
 1 have not leasureno.v of listening. I have got fishes to my 
 liking. I am taking care that these be not spoiled. For 
 that thing is a crime to us as much, Demea, as to you all 
 not to do those things which you have just now said. And 
 as well as I can, I charge the servants to that very same 
 purport. This tastes of salt. This is burnt up. This is 
 washed but little. That is rightly done; remember to do so 
 again. I diligently admonish them as to those matters that 
 I am able as far as my wisdom goes. Lastly, Demea, I 
 order them to look into their plates, as into a mirror, and 
 advise what use may be in its being done. I perceive that 
 these things which we do, are silly, but what can you do ? 
 As a man is, so you must conduct yourself. Do you wish 
 for any thing? Dem. That a better way of thinking be 
 given to you all ? Syr. Will you go from hence to the coun- 
 try ? Dem. Straitway. Syr. For what can you do here, 
 where if you may instruct them well in any thing, no one 
 may mind you ? {Exit Syrus into Micids house) Dem. (in 
 soliloquy) I truly go away hence, since he, on whose ac- 
 count 1 had come here, hath departed to the country. I 
 attended to him alone. He belongs to me. Since my bro- 
 
 * It was pronounced in acting at Wetminster, 'Queem 
 produxi. 
 
96 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 ther so wishes, let himself have seen about that other, {He 
 looks towards the back scene) But who is there, whom I see 
 afar ? Is it Hegio belonging to our district ? If I 9ee well, 
 it is certainly he. Ah ! He is a man, a friend to us even 
 from a boy. O ye good gods ! Truly we have a great scar- 
 city now of citizens of that sort. A man, possessed ofan- 
 tient virtue and trust. No evil may have quickly sprung up 
 from him to the public. How I rejoice, when I see even 
 the relics to remain of this race of men. Ah ! Even at 
 this time, it is a pleasure to me to live. I will wait for the 
 man here that I may salute him, and speak with him. {He 
 retires on one side.) 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE V. 
 
 {Enter Hegio , and Geta from the back scene, and advance 
 on the different side from Demea, without seeing him,) 
 
 Hegio. O immortal gods ! An unworthy deed, Geta ! 
 What are you telling ? Get. So it was done. He^. From 
 that family, so illiberal a deed to have risen ? O iEschinus, 
 you have not shewn that like an action of your Father's. — 
 Dem. {behind) Ay indeed, he has heard about this Music- 
 girl ; that grieves him now, though he is not of our family. 
 That father of the youth cares nothing about it. Alas me 1 
 I wish that he was near at hand somewhere, and might hear 
 these things. Heg. {to Geta) Unless they shall do what it 
 is just they should do, they shall not carry off things thus. 
 Get. In thee, Hegio, all our hope is placed. We have but 
 you alone. You are our patron, you are a father to us. That 
 old man dying recommended us to you.If you forsake us, we 
 are lost. Heg. Guard against what you may have said ; 
 neither will I do any thing, nor do I think that I am able 
 very justly to do any thing. Dem. I will go up to him. 
 {advancing to him) I salute Hegio with every respect ! — 
 Heg. Oh ! I was seeking you yousself. Your servant, 
 Demea. Dem. But what is it? Heg. Your elder son 
 iEschinus, whom you gave to your brother to be adopted, 
 has neither performed the duty of a good, nor of a liberal 
 man. Dem. What is that? Heg. You had known our 
 friend and contemporary Simulus? Dem. Why not ? Heg, 
 He has debauched his virgin daughter. Dem. Hah ! Heg. 
 Wait ; you have not as yet heard what is the most grevious 
 thing. Dem. Whether is there any also greater ? Heg. 
 In truth greater. For this indeed in some degree to be borne. 
 Night, love, wine, young age influenced him. It is human. 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 97 
 
 When he knows the deed, he himself voluntarily comes to 
 the virgin's mother, weeping, entreating, beseeching, giving 
 his faith, swearing that he would conduct her home as his 
 wife. It was unknown to the world, it was hushed up, it 
 was depended on. The virgin from that compression be- 
 came big with child ; this is the tenth month. That good 
 man hath got for us a Music-girl, if it pleases the gods, with 
 whom he may live, and forsake her, Dem. Do you say 
 these things for certain ? Heg. The mother of the virgin is at 
 hand, the virgin herself, the affair itself. This Geta besides, 
 as far as the ability of servants is, being not bad, nor lazy, 
 supports those women. Fie alone sustains all the family. 
 Take him aside, bind him to faith, and examine the affair. 
 Get. Yes, even torture me, if it hath not been so, Demea. 
 Lastly, he will not deny it, give me himself face to face. Dim. 
 (aside ) It shames me, nor do I know what I shall do, nor 
 what I may answer to him. (Pamphila in Sostrata's house 
 cries out in labour) Pam. (aloud) Juno Lucina, assist me, 
 save me, I pray. Heg. Hah ! I beseech you, is she bringing 
 forth? Get. Certainly, Hegio. Heg. Hah ! She now im- 
 plores your friendship, Demea. What force compels you 
 to, let her obtain that with your good will. That these 
 things first may happen, I pray the gods, as it is becoming 
 to you to do so. But if your mind is otherwise, I, Demea, 
 will defend her with my utmost power, and that man that is 
 dead. He was a relation to me. We were brought up to- 
 gether from very little boys. We were together always in 
 the wars and at home. Together we endured heavy po- 
 verty. On which account I will strive, act, and try. 
 Lastly I will relinquish my life, rather than I will 
 forsake those women. What do you answer to me? Dem. 
 Hegio, I will meet my brother ; what advice he shall have 
 given me concerning this affair, that 1 will follow. Heg. 
 But, Demea, make yourselfponder this thing in your mind, 
 equally as ye act with greatest facility, as ye are most great- 
 ly powerful, rich, fortunate, and noble, so in greatest mea- 
 sure it behoves you to acknowledge just things with a just 
 mind, if ye wish that ye should be spoke of as upright men. 
 Dem. Return home. All things shall be done, which it is 
 just should be done. Heg. It becomes you to do so (to Geta.) 
 Geta, conduct me within-doors to Sostrata. {Exeunt Hegi. 
 and Geta into Sostrata* s house.) Dem. (in soliloquy) These 
 things do not happen, I not speaking against them. I wish 
 this matter may have only passed away. Truly that too 
 great licentiousness will turn out certainly to some great 
 
 H 
 
9» TERENTII ADE1PHI. 
 
 evil. I will go and look for my brother, that I may vomk 
 out these things upon him. (Exit Demea at the back scene.) 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Enter Heuio from Sostrata's house. The door being open 
 he turns about, and speaks to the women within the house.) 
 
 Hegio. Make yourself be cheerful, Sostrato, and that 
 young woman make yourself give comfort to, as much as 
 you can. I will meet Micio, if he is at the forum, and will 
 tell him in order how the affair has been carried on. If he 
 is about to do as his duty may be, let him do so. But if his 
 opinion is otherwise concerning this affair, let him answer 
 me, that I may know as soon as possible what I shall do. 
 
 (Exit Hegio at the back scene*) 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Ctesipho and Syrus from Micro's house.) 
 
 Ctesipho. Do you say that my father went away from 
 hence to the country ? Syr. Long ago. Cte. Tell me, I 
 beg. Syr. He is at his country house. I believe he is now 
 doing some very great work there. Cte. I wish indeed 
 what may happen with his safety, and should like, he may 
 have so fatigued himself, that he may not be able altogether 
 to rise from his bed for these three days successively. Syr. 
 So may it be, and any thing if it can be more to the purpose 
 than that. Cte. So may it. For too anxiously I desire to 
 pass this whole day in joy as I began it. And I so sadly hate 
 that very country for no other cause unless that it is near. 
 But if it was distant further off, night would have overtaken 
 him there before that he could return hither again. Now, 
 when he would not see me there, he will run back hither 
 immediately, I well know. He will ask me where I may 
 have been, whom to-day I have not seen in the whole day. 
 What shall I say ? Syr. Does nothing come into your mind ? 
 Cte. Never any thing. Syr. You are so much the worse. 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 99 
 
 A client, friend or guest, have you no one ? Cte. I have. 
 What then ? Syr. That your attention can have been given 
 to them. Cte. What may not have been given, cannot 
 stand good. Syr. It can. Cte. In the day-time, but if I 
 pass the night here, what cause can I mention, Syrus ? Syr. 
 Ah ! How I should wish it were the custom that attention 
 should be paid to friends also by night ! But do you be at 
 your ease ; I know right well his understanding. When he 
 rages most, I make him as gentle as a sheep. Cte. How ? 
 Syr. With pleasure he hears you praised. I make you out 
 a god with him. I tell him your virtues. Cte. Mine ? 
 Syr. Yours. Tears instantly fall to the man with joy, just 
 as to a boy {looking about.) But hah ! Mind yourself. Cte. 
 What is it ? Syr. The wolf in the fable. Cte. (looking to- 
 wards the back scene) My father is here. Syr. It is he 
 himself. Cte. Syrus, what do we do ? Syr. Only fly away 
 in-doors. I will see him. Cte. (runs within Micio's door) 
 If he shall ask you any thing, you will say that you have 
 seen me no where. Have you heard me ? Syr. Can you 
 leave off? (Ctesipho shuts himself up within the house. 
 Syrus stations himself outside the door.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE II. 
 
 {Enter Demea from the back scene , hobbling slowly forward.) 
 
 Demea. Truly I am an unfortunate man ! In the first 
 place I find my brother no where. But besides that, while 
 I am seeking him, I saw a labourer from my country house. 
 He denies that my son is in the country ; nor do I know 
 what I shall do. Cte. {putting his head out at the door, and 
 speaking with a low voice) Syrus ! Syr. (in a low voice) What 
 do you say ? Cte. Is he seeking me ? Syr. It is true.— 
 Cte. I am undone. Syr. But do you be of good heart. 
 (Ctesipho pops back and shuts the door) Dem. What is this 
 evil of wretchedness ? I cannot well pronounce unless I be- 
 lieve I am born on purpose for bearing miseries. I first 
 perceive our misfortunes. I first find out all things. More- 
 over 1 first announce them. I alone, if any thing happens, 
 bear it with vexation. Syr, I laugh atthismnn. He says 
 that he knows the first ; he alone is ignorant of all things. 
 Dem. Now I return. I am to see if by chance my brother 
 may have returned home. (He moves slowly towards Micio's 
 house) Cte. {putting his head out at the door) Syrus, I en- 
 H 2 
 
100 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 treat, see that he may not altogether drive himself in hither. 
 Syr. {turning his head to CtesiphoJ Do you hold your 
 tongue even ? I will take care. Cte. I never truly this day 
 will committ that to you, for I will instantly shut myself 
 into some cellar along with her. That is the safest thing. 
 Syr. Mind yourself; nevertheless I will move him off. 
 (Ctesipho shuts himself in) Dem. {looking up) But behold ras- 
 cally Syrus. Syr. (in an angry growling voice) No one can 
 indeed actually stay here, if it is done thus. I want to 
 know truly how many masters I have ? What misery 
 is this ? Dem. What is that man chattering ? What 
 does he want ? What say you, my good man ? Harkye, 
 is my brother at home ? Syr. Why, a curse, do you say 
 to me, my good man ? I am actually done for. Dem. 
 What ails you ? Syr. Do you ask ? Ctesipho with his 
 fists has almost killed wretched me, and that Music-girl, 
 Dem. Hah ! What are you saying ? Syr. Hah \ (he 
 holds up his month close to Demerits face) See how he split 
 my lip ! Dem. For what reason ? Syr. He says that 
 she was bought, I being the adviser. Dem. Did you not 
 say that you conducted him forth awhile ago to the coun- 
 try from hence ? fyr. It was done ; but he came afterwards 
 mad with fury. He spared me not. That it hath not sham- 
 ed him to flog an old man, him whom I have carried in 
 my arms, (he measures with his hand two feet from the 
 ground) A boy only so big. Dem. I like you for that, 
 Ctesipho. You take after your father. Get you gone. I 
 think you a man. Syr. Do you like him for that ? Truly, 
 if he will be wise, he will keep his hands to himself here- 
 after. Dam. Bravely done. Syr. Very bravely done ! 
 Because he conquered a wretched woman, and me a ser- 
 vant, who did not dare to strike again. Oho ! Very bravely 
 indeed ! Dem. He could not do better. He perceived 
 the same thing that I do, that you are the ringleader to this 
 business. But is my brother within? Syr. He is not. 
 Dem. (looking down) I am thinking where I shall seek him. 
 Syr. I know where he must be, but this day I will never 
 make it known. Dem. Ah ! ha ! What do you say ? — 
 Syr. (in a gruff voice) I say so. Dem. (shaking his stick 
 at him) Truly your brains shall be knocked out immediate- 
 ly, Syr. But I do not know the name of that man, though 
 I know the place where he must be. Dem. Tell the place 
 therefore. Syr. Have you known the porch at the next 
 shambles down the hill ? Dem. Why may not I have 
 known it ? Syr. Pass by this way by the straight street 
 upwards. When you shall have come there, opposite is a 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 101 
 
 steep hill downwards. Run down this way. Afterwards 
 there is a little temple on this hand. There near at hand 
 is a narrow alley. Bern, Where ? Syr. In that place 
 where there is also a great fig-tree. Dem. I have known 
 it. Syr. Go onwards this way. Dem. (angry) Why 
 that narrow alley is not a thoroughfare ! Syr. {stamping 
 his foot) True actually. Ah ? do you think that I have 
 human faculties ? I have made a mistake. Again, re- 
 turn to the porch. In fact this way you will go a much 
 nearer rout, and the roundabout is less. Do you know 
 the houses of this rich Cratinus? Dem. I know. Syr. 
 When you shall have passed by them, go to the left this 
 way by the straight street. When you shall have come 
 to the temple of Diana, go to the right. Before that you 
 may come to the town-gate, at the very lake there is a 
 bake-house, and on the opposite side of the way a work- 
 shop. There he is. Dem. What is he doing there? 
 Syr. He gave orders that small couches with feet of oak 
 should be made, seasoned in the sun. D:m. Upon which 
 ye all may drink. That is well indeed. But do I delay 
 to go on to find him? (Exit Demea at the side scene 
 hobbling fast.) Syr. {looking after him) Go your ways 
 wisely ! I will work you to-day as you deserve, you 
 poking dotard ! -Echinus hatefully delays. The din- 
 ner is spoiled. But Ctesipho is all over in love. I will 
 now look forward to myself; for immediately I will go to 
 the dinner, and will munch each and every one thing 
 that shall be nicest, and sipping my glasses of wine, 
 pleasantly by little and little will lengthen out this day. 
 {Exit Syrus into Micio' s house.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE III. 
 
 {Enter Micio and Hegio from the back scene.) 
 
 Micio. In this affair, Hegio, I find nothing for which 
 I may be so much praised. I do my duty, I correct any 
 fault which has sprung from us. Unless you have be- 
 lieved me to be in that class of men, who think that in- 
 jury is thus done to them, if others voluntarily expostu- 
 late with them about injury they have done, and then 
 they voluntarily accuse the others. Do you give me thanks 
 because that has not been done by me? Heg. Ah ! by no 
 means ! I never thought of you otherwise than as you 
 are. But I beseech you, Micio, that you may go toge- 
 
102 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 ther with me to the mother of the virgin, and that you 
 yourself may say to the woman those same things which 
 you have said me ; that this suspicion is on account of 
 his brother and that Music-girl. Mic. If you think it 
 right to do so, or if there is need of its being done so, 
 let us go. Heg. You do well ; for you will both relieve 
 her mind immediately, which is pining with grief and 
 misery, and you will have performed your duty. But if 
 you think otherwise, I myself will tell her those things, 
 which you have said to me. Mic. Yes ; I will go. Heg. 
 You do well ; all those to whom affairs are less prosper- 
 ous, are, by what means I know not, more suspicious. 
 They receive all things more as meant to an affront. On 
 account of their weakness they always believe themselves 
 to be neglected. Wherefore it is more effectual ttv ap- 
 peasing them that you yourself should clear up the mat- 
 ter to her herself before her. Mic. You speak both 
 rightly and truly. Heg. [going towards Sostratcfs door) 
 Follow me therefore this way in-doors. Mic. Most cer- 
 tainly. (Hegio and Micio exeunt into Sostrata's house.) 
 
 ACT. IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter iEscmNUS from the side scene with arms folded, 
 and slowly advances.) 
 
 jEschinus. I am agonised iu mind. That this so great 
 an evil should be thrown upon me unforeseen, that I am 
 neither determined what I shall do with myself, nor how 
 I shall act. My limbs are weak with fear, my mind is 
 stupefied with apprehension. No counsel can rest within 
 my breast. Ah ! how shall I extricate myself from this 
 trouble ? So great a suspicion now falls on me, nor that 
 undeservedly. Sostrata believes that I bought this music- 
 girl for myself. As to that, the old woman made a dis- 
 covery to me. For as by chance she had been sent from 
 hence to the midwife, when I saw her, I instantly approach 
 her, I ask how Pamphila may be going on ; and may her 
 lying-in be now at hand ; whether for that purpose she 
 may be calling the midwife ? She exclaims, begone, be- 
 gone directly, iEschinus, long enough you have deceived 
 us, enough already hath your faith disappointed us. 
 Hah I say I, what is that matter I beseech you ? Fare- 
 well I have her who pleases you.— I perceived instantly that 
 they suspected that j but I suffered myself to be reproved 
 
TERENTlI ADELPHT. 103 
 
 notwithstanding, lest I should say any thing about my 
 brother to that chattering woman, and it should become 
 public. Now what shall I do? Shall 1 say that she is 
 belonging to my brother ? A matter which there is no 
 need should be carried abroad any where. Well, I dis- 
 miss that; it must be, that it go not abroad in any way. 
 With regard to that very thing I fear how they may be- 
 lieve me. So many probable things concur. I myself 
 dragged the girl away. I myself paid the money. She 
 was led away home to me. That these things therefore 
 happened by my own fault, I do confess. Was it not 
 proper, that I had discovered this affair to my father, 
 howsoever it had been carried on ? I should have pre- 
 vailed on him by entreaty, that I might marry her. 
 Ever till now have I been slothfully backward. Now, 
 moreover, iEschinus, rouse up from sleep. Now this is 
 the first thing; I will go to those women that I may clear 
 myself I will approach the doors. (He goes towards 
 Sostratas door and starts back.) I am undone. I shudder 
 always, when miserable I undertake to knock at these 
 doors. (He knocks at the door with his hand.) Hillo ! 
 Hillo ! I am iEschinus ; open the door, some one imem- 
 diately ! {The door half opens, and he starts back.) Some 
 one is going forth, I know not who. I will step aside 
 hither. (He goes aside.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Micio from Sostrata's house ; the door remain- 
 ing open, he turns about, and speaks to those within.) 
 
 Micio. Do ye as I said, Sostrata. I will meet JEs- 
 chinus, that he may know in what manner these things 
 have been done. (The door is shut, Micio turns about and 
 looks round.) But who knocked at the door ? Msc. (aside) 
 It is my father, and I am undone. Mic. (calling to him) 
 iEschinus ! JEsc. (aside) What business has he here ? Mic. 
 Have you rapped at these doors ? (aside) He is silent. 
 Why am I not to play upon him for some little while ? It 
 is better, since he himself never was willing to trust this 
 matter to me. (Aloud to JEschinus) Do you answer me 
 nothing ? Msc. (confused) I have not indeed knocked at 
 those doors, as far as I may know. Mic. perhaps so ; for 
 I was wondering what business you might have here 
 (aside). He blushed. The affair is in a safe way. JEsc. 
 
104- TERENTII ADELPHI 
 
 Tell me, I pray you, Father, what affair in truth you have 
 here? Mic. I have nothing indeed. A certain friend led 
 me away just now from the Forum, as an advocate for him 
 hither. JEsc. What is it? Mic. I will tell you. Some poor 
 women dwell here, as I suppo>e you have not known 
 them, and know it for certain. For they have not remov- 
 ed hither long. JEsc. What then afterwards ? Mic, A 
 virgin is with her mother. JEsc. Go on. Mic. This 
 Virgin is deprived of her father. This my friend is near- 
 est to her in relationship. The laws compel her to marry 
 him. JEsc. [aside) lam lost. Mic. What is it ? JEsc. 
 Nothing. You said rightly. Go on. Mic. He is come 
 that he may carry her away with him ; for he dwells at 
 Miletus ? JEsc. Hah ! That he may carry away the virgin 
 with him ? Mic. It is so. JEsc. 1 besech you as far as 
 Miletus ? Mic. So it is. JEsc. {aside) It is grievous to 
 my mind, (to Micio) What are the women themselves do- 
 ing ? What do they say ? Mic. What do you think that 
 they should say ? Nothing in truth. The mother pretended 
 that a child was born from another man, whom, I know 
 not. Nor does she name him. That he was the former 
 lover. That it was not proper she should be given to this 
 other one. JEsc. Ah ! hah ! Do not these things appear 
 just to yoii afterwards? Mic. No. JEsc. I beseech you, 
 have you said no ? Whether will he carry her away from 
 hence, father ? Mic. Why may he not carry her away ? 
 JEsc. Severely it has been done by you, and unmercifully, 
 and also if, father, it is to be spoken more openly, illiberal- 
 ly. Mic, For what reason ? JEsc. Do you ask me ? What, 
 believe you, will happen at length to that man wretched of 
 mind, who consorted with her first, I know not whether he 
 nowmiserably loves her, when present with her he shall see her 
 snatched away from him, standing by, dragged away from 
 his sight? An unworthy deed, my father! Mic. By 
 what reasoning is that? Who betrothed her to him? 
 Who gave her ? Whom and when did she marry ? W 7 ho 
 is the author to these affairs ? Why did he marry a girl not 
 belonging to him ? JEsc. Whether behoved it a virgin so 
 exalted to remain at home waiting until a relation should 
 come from that place to this ? These things, my father, it 
 was right that you should say, and should defend that mat- 
 ter. Mic. Ridiculous ! Should I plead a cause against 
 him, for whom I had come as an advocate ? But how are 
 these things of our concern, iEschinus ? Or what business 
 have we with them ? Let us depart. {Micio goes a Jem 
 steps and JEschinus. remains in tears. Micio turns round) 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 105 
 
 What is it ? Why do you weep ? JEsc. Father, I beseech 
 you, listen to me. Mic. iEschinus, I have heard all things, 
 and know them. For I have a love for you. From which 
 circumstance the things that you do are the more of con- 
 cern to me. JEsc. As I wish you may love me when de- 
 serving of it while you may live, my faiher, so it grieves 
 me heavily that I have been guilty of this fault, and it 
 shames me on your account. Mic. I believe it indeed ; for 
 I have known your liberal disposition. But I fear lest you 
 mav be too careless- In what government-state do you at 
 length think that you are living ? You have debauched a 
 virgin whom it had not been lawful for you to touch. Now 
 that your first crime is great ; great, but yet incident to 
 man. Others have often done it, even good men. But af- 
 ter that the thing happened* tell me, have you at all used 
 precaution ? Or have you yourself in any respect looked 
 to yourself, what should be done ? What way it should 
 be done ? What way I should come to the knowledge of 
 it, if it shamed yourself to tell it me ? While you are 
 doubting of the.^e things ten months passed away. You 
 betrayed yourself, and her miserable woman, and your son, 
 as far indeed as was in you. What? Did you believe 
 that the gods were about to make up these things for you, 
 when dozing asleep? .And that she without your endea- 
 vour would be led home to you into your chamber? I can- 
 not wish that you in the same manner were neglectful of 
 other affairs. Be of good courage. You shall marry her. 
 JEsc. (in surprise) Hah ! Mic. Be of good courage, I say. 
 JEsc. O my father ! I entreat you, are you now joking with 
 with me ? Mic. Do I joke with you ? Wherefore ? JEsc. 
 1 know not; because 1 so anxiously desire this to be true, 
 on that account 1 fear the more. Mic. Go away home, 
 and pray to the gods that you may call your wife to you. 
 Get you gone. JEsc. What? My wife now? Mic- Now, 
 directly ? Mic. Now, as soon as can be. JEsc, {clapping 
 his hands together) May all the gods hate me, my father, if 
 I do not love you now more ihan my eyes ! Mic. What 
 than her? JEsc. Equally. Mic. Very gracious indeed ! JEsc. 
 What? Where is that man of Miletus? Mic. He went away, 
 he perished, he went on board ship. But why do you delay? 
 JEsc. Go you, my father, do you rather pray to the gods, for 
 I know for certain that they are about to comply with you 
 more than me, by as much as you area much better man than 
 I am. Mic. I am going in-doors, that those things which are 
 necessary may be prepared. Do thou so as I said, if you 
 
106 TERENTII ADELFHI. 
 
 are wise {Exit Micio into his house.) JEsc. (to himself J 
 What is this business ? Is this to be a father? Or is 
 this to be a son ? If he was my brother, or my com- 
 panion, how could he more comply with me? Is not this 
 man to be beloved ? Is not he to be cherished in my bosom ? 
 Ay ! Ay ! And therefore as he has given me so great 
 attention with his kindness, I in wisdom will take care, that 
 I may not by chance imprudent do that which he may dis- 
 like. But I am delaying to go in-doors. Let me not my- 
 self be a delay to my own nuptials ! (Exit into Micio's 
 house,) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Elite?* Demea from the back scene, hobbling slowly, with 
 his hand on his back, as if in pain.) 
 
 Demea. I am tired down with walking. That you, Syrus, 
 with your shewing me the way, may the great Jupiter des- 
 troy I I have crept through the whole town almost. To 
 the town gate, to the lake, and where not ? Nor was there 
 any workshop there, nor did any man say that he had seen 
 my brother. Now in truth I am determined to sit down 
 quietly, all the time till he shall have returned. 
 
 ACT. IV. SCENE VII. 
 
 (Enter Micio from his house. The door beingopen, he turns 
 about, and speaks to iEscmNUS within.) 
 
 Micio, I will go and tell them, that there is no delay in us. 
 (he turns away and the door is shut) Dem, But behold him 
 himself. I am a long time seeking you, Micio. Mic. On 
 what matter ? Dem. I bring other outrages to you, mon- 
 strous ones of that good young man. Mic. But lo ! Again. 
 Dem* These are new ones, capital ones ! Mic. Well now. 
 Dem* Ah ! You know not what a man he is ! Mic. I know 
 him. Dem. O you fool, you dream that I am descanting 
 about the Music-girl. This crime is against a virgin,, a 
 citizen. Mic. I know it. Dem. What ! Do you know 
 it, and suffer it? Mic. Why may I not suffer it ? Dem. Tell 
 me, are you not exclaiming ? Are you not mad with fury ? 
 Mic, No. I may wish indeed I was so. Dem. A child is born. 
 Mic. May the gods bless it ! Dem, The virgin has no- 
 thing. Mic. I have heard so. Dem. And is she to be married 
 
TERENTII ADELPMI. 107 
 
 without portion ? Mic. By all means. Bern. {Lifting up 
 his hands and eyes) What now is to be ? Mic* That in 
 fact which the thing itself brings with it. The virgin will 
 be brought across (pointing at Sostrata's door and then 
 his own) from thence hither. Dem. O Jupiter ! does it 
 behove you to act in that manner? Mic. What can I 
 do more ? Dam. What can you do ? If that matter 
 does not grieve you with the thing itself, to pretend to 
 grieve is certainly the part of a man. Mic. But now I 
 have bethrothed the virgin. The affair is settled. The 
 nuptials are to be. I have taken away all fear. These 
 things are more the duty of a man. Dem. But does the 
 act please you, Micio ? Mic. It does not, if I were able 
 to change it ; now since I am not able, I bear it with a 
 patient mind. The life of men is so, as when you play 
 with dice. If that which is most necessary to be cast 
 does not fall, what fell by chance, try to correct that by 
 art ! Dem. (snarling) A corrector thou ! to-wit by your 
 art twenty pounds have sunk for the music girl ; who, as 
 fast as possible is to be cast off somewhere; if not for a 
 price, given away for nothing. Mic. She is neither to be 
 sold, nor am I really desirous to sell her. Dem. What 
 therefore will you do ? Mic. She will be at home. Dem, 
 O the faith of the gods ! gifting tip his hands) The har- 
 lot and the mistress of the family in the same house ! 
 Mic. Why not? Dem. Do you believe that you are in 
 your senses? Mic. Indeed I judge so. Dem. So may 
 the gods love me, as I see your silliness, I believe that 
 you will manage, that you may have her to sing with? 
 Mic. Why not? Dem. And will the new married woman 
 learn these same things? Mic. Yes, certainly. Dem. 
 And you between those women, (he capers about) will 
 jump, dancing a jig. Mic. Finely. Dem. Finely indeed ? 
 Mic. And you, together with us, if there be need. Dem. 
 Alas me ! Do not these things shame you ? Mic. Now 
 in truth, Demea, lay aside that wrath ot yours, and so as 
 it becomes you, make yourself lively and pleasant at the 
 nuptials of your son. I will meet these neighbours. Af- 
 terwards I return. (Exit Micio into Sostrata J s house) 
 Dem. (to himself) O Jupiter ! that this should be the life 
 they lead ! that these should be their manners ! that this 
 should be their madness ! a wife will come without a por- 
 tion. Within is a Music-girl. An extravagant house 
 A young man lost with dissipation. An old man out of 
 
108 TERENTII >DELPHI. 
 
 his senses. If the goddess of safety herself may desire it, 
 she cannot altogether save from ruin this family. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VIII. 
 
 (Enter from Micio's house Syrus drunk, with his stock- 
 ings and garters loose. He staggers to the front, not 
 seeing Demea. He talks to himself slowly, while balance- 
 ing his body. 
 
 Syrus. Odds niggings ! little Syrus ! you take care of 
 yourself daintily ! and you have managed your business 
 elegantly ! Get you gone. (Hiccups.) But after that I 
 am chuck-full of all the good things within, it pleased 
 my fancy to go forth on a perambulation hither. Dem, 
 {behind shaking his stick at him) See there what an exam- 
 ple of discipline you may be ! Syr. (looking about and 
 staggering round) But lo ! behold you, here is present 
 our old gentleman. (He staggers up to Demea) What 
 is done? Why are you melancholy? Dem. (lifting 
 his stick) Oh ! you rascal ! Syr. {balancing himself) 
 Oh ! ho ! now ! Are you pouring your words upon us 
 here, old wisdom ? Dem. Thou, if you were my servant — 
 Syr. You would be rich indeed, Demea, and would have 
 consolidated your property. Dem. I would take care 
 that you should be an example to all others. Syr. For 
 what reason? What have I done? (staggers) Dem. Do 
 you ask ? In the very trouble, and in the greatest crime, 
 which has scarcely been appeased properly, you have 
 been drinking, you rascal, as if in an affair happily car- 
 ried on. Syr. (aside as he staggers off from him) Verily 
 I would not wish now, that I had gone out hither. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE IX. 
 
 (Enter Dromo hastily from Micio's house.) 
 
 Dromo. Harkye, Syrus, Ctesipho desires you to come 
 back. Syr. (putting his hand on Dromo' s mouth, and then 
 pushing him back into the house) Get you gone you. (Sy- 
 rus turns about again to Demea) Dem. What ? Does he 
 speak of Ctesipho ? Syr, It was nothing. Dem. Ah ! 
 hah ! you villain, is Ctesipho within ? Syr. He is not. 
 Dem. Why does this man name him ? Syr. There is 
 another certain person, a little sort of Parasite. Have 
 
TEUENTII ADBLPHT. 109 
 
 you known him ? Dem. (Hobbling across towards Micio 7 s 
 door Now 1 will know. Syr. (laying hold of him by the 
 arm) What are you about? Where are yon marching 
 off? Dem. (struggling) Let me go ! Syr. (holding and 
 pulling him back) Do not wish to go, I say. Dem. Do 
 not you keep off your hand, you rogue ? Or had you 
 rather now that I scatter your brains about here? (They 
 struggle together, and at last Djmea pushing him violently 
 off, Syrus is thrown against the side scene, and Demea 
 bursts into the house, and claps the door after him —a pause) 
 Syr. He is off ! Odds bobs a messmate not exactly agree- 
 able, especially to Ctesipho ! What shall I do now ? 
 unless that, while these turmoils are hushed, I may in the 
 mean time go away into a corner somewhere, and sleep 
 off this modicum of little wine. So I will do. So I will 
 do. (He staggers to the side scene and exits.) 
 
 END OF THE FOURTH ACT. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Micio from Sostrata's house. He turns about, 
 the door being open, and speaks to Sostrata within. 
 
 Micio. All things are prepared by us, as I told you, 
 Sostrata, when you will. (He turns away and the door is 
 shut. A great noise is heard inside Micio' 's door.) What 
 man from my house struck my doors there so violently ? 
 (Enter Demea rushing out from Micio' s door clapping his 
 hands in an agony of rage) Dem. (speaking loud and 
 quick) Alas me! What shall I do ? How shall I act? 
 How can I exclaim or complain ? {dropping on his knees) O 
 heaven ! O earth ! O seas of Neptune ! Mic. There is for 
 you, he has found out all the affair. He is now at once ex- 
 claiming at it. Quarrels are prepared. I must assist 
 them. Dem. (rising up and seeing Micio) Behold him, 
 here is the general corrupter of my children. Mic. At 
 length restrain your wrath, and return to your senses. 
 Dem. (out of breath with rage) I have restrained it, I have 
 returned to my senses, 1 lay aside all abusive words. Let 
 us think of the thing itself. This was said betwixt us, 
 from you too it arose, that you should not take care of my 
 
110 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 son, nor I yours. Answer me. Mic. It was done, I do not 
 deny it. D m. Why is he now drinking at your house ? 
 Why do you receive my son ? Why do you buy a mistress 
 for him, Micio? Is it just that the same right should be less 
 towards me, than is with me towards you ? Since I do not 
 takecare of yours, donottake care of mine. Mic. You do not 
 say what is just; for this is an old saying indeed, that all 
 things belonging to friends are common amongst them. 
 Dem. Facetiously said. Now at last that mode of speaking 
 has sprung up. Mic. Listen to a few words, unless it is 
 troublesome to you, Demea. In the first place, if it gnaws 
 you as to the expence which your sons make, I request you 
 may think of this matter within yourself, thus; those two 
 you took up formerly for your property, because you did 
 think that your possessions would be enough for both. 
 And moreover you believed at that time that I was about 
 to marry. Keep thou now that same old reasoning. Scrape 
 up, seek profit, be sparing, try to leave to them as much 
 as possible. Obtain you to yourself that glory. As to my 
 property, which has occurred beyond expectation, suffer 
 them to use that. Nothing will decrease from the first 
 whole sum. What shall have acceded from hence, think 
 thou that to be all profit. If you shall be willing to think 
 of these things justly in your mind, Demea, you will have 
 taken away uneasiness both from me and yourself, and also 
 from them. Dem. I care not about property, their morals 
 I regard. Mic* Wait. I know it. I was proceeding to 
 that. There are many signs within a man, Demea, from 
 which a conjecture is easily made, when two do the same 
 thing, that you can often say, it is lawful to the one to do 
 this thing with impunity, to the other it is not lawful; not 
 by reason that the thing be dissimilar, but that he who does 
 it is so. Which things I see to subsist in them ; so that I 
 may have confidence, that it will be so as we wish. I observe 
 them to be wise, to be intelligent, in the proper place to 
 fear, to be loving between themselves. I have reason to 
 know their generous disposition, and intention. On any 
 day you may reclaim them. But now you may fear, lest 
 notwithstanding they may be a little more negligent of the 
 monejr, than you may wish. O my Demea, we grow wise 
 by age with more difficulty to all other things. This one 
 vice alone old age brings upon men, we are all more at- 
 tentive to the money than is proper. But age will sharpen 
 them up sufficiently to economy. Dem. Let not those 
 fine reasonings of yours, Micio, and that just sentiment of 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. Ill 
 
 yours too much now subvert us. Mic. Be silent. It will 
 not happen. Lay aside now those things. Give yourself 
 up to me to-day. Clear your brow. Dem, Ay, so as the 
 time require, it must be done; but I will go to-morrow 
 hence to the country with my son by the first dawn of day. 
 Mic, By night, I think, only make yourself sprightly to- 
 day. Dem. And I will drag hence that music-girl along 
 with me thither. Mic, You will have been a hero ! By 
 that means you will have tied your son completely to her. 
 Only take care that you keep her snug. Dem. I will have 
 seen to that. And there I will make her be full of ashes, 
 smoke and chaff with baking and grinding ; and besides 
 these things I will make her gather the stubble in the very 
 noon day. I will also make her as baked up and black 
 as a coal is. Mic. It pleases me. Now you seem to be 
 wise. And then truly I would compel my son, even if 
 he were unwilling, to go to bed along with her. Dem. 
 Do you laugh at me ? Happy you are, who can be of 
 such a disposition (putting his hand on his breast). I have 
 feelings. Mic. Ah ! are you going on ? Dem. Now, 
 now, I leave off. Mic. Go therefore within-doors, and 
 whatever comfort there is room for, to that comfort let 
 us assign this day. (Exit Micio into his house.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE II. 
 
 (Demea remains in deep meditation.) 
 
 Demea, Never was any one with a method so well 
 established to his way of life, but some one transac- 
 tion, or age, or experience may always bring something 
 new, and may admonish something. That you may be 
 ignorant of those things, which you can believe you know, 
 and that you may reject upon trial those things that you 
 may have thought most essential to you. Which circum- 
 stance now happens to me. For the hard life, which I 
 have always hitherto lived, my course being now almost 
 run out, I throw off—wherefore do I that ? I have found 
 by reality itself, that nothing is better for a man than 
 mildness, nor more worthy than clemency. That, that is 
 a true thing, it is easy for any one to know from me and 
 from my brother. He always passed his life in ease and 
 banquetting, merciful, gentle, affronting no one, smiling 
 with all men. He lived for himself, he laid out money 
 for himself. All men speak well of him, and love him. 
 
1 12 TERENTII ADELPHI. 
 
 I, that rustic, savage, dismal, parsimonious, morose, ob- 
 stinate man, married a wife. What misery found I there ! 
 Sons were born. There was another care ! but lo there I 
 while I am anxious that I might make as much as possible 
 for them, I wore out my life and age in hunting after money. 
 Now, my life being passed through, I receive from them 
 this product for my labour, hatred. The other without trou- 
 ble enjoys the advantage of a father. Him they lovej 
 me they fly from. To him they confide all their counsels. 
 Him they are cordial to. Both of them are with him. 
 I am deserted. They wish as to him, that lie may live; 
 but my death they are in fact waiting for. So those 
 brought up from childhood with my greatest pains, he 
 hath made his own with small expense. I receive all the 
 misery ; he enjoys the delights. Come on now ! Come 
 on I now immediately ! Moreover let us try in the con- 
 trary way, what I can be able to say with blandishment, 
 or to do with benignity ; since there is an invitement forth 
 to this purpose. I also am to require that I should be 
 loved by my relations, and be estimated of great value. 
 If that is done by giving and gratifying, I will make 
 them not at all behind hand as to me. Shall any thing 
 be deficient at last ? That is of the least or no conse- 
 quence to me, who am the eldest, and have the best in- 
 heritance. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE III. 
 
 {Enter Syrus from Micio's house.) 
 
 Syrns. Harkye, Demea, your brother requests that you 
 may not go away to a greater distance. Dem. What man 
 is this? O our Syrus ! Your servant ! What happens? 
 What is doing? Syr. (bowing) All is proper. Dem. 
 (aside) it is excellent, even now beyond my nature for 
 the first time I have added these three sayings, O our, 
 what happens, what is doing ? (to Syrus) You shew your- 
 self a liberal servant, and with pleasure I shall have con- 
 ferred a benefit on you. Syr. I am grateful to you. Dem. 
 But, Syrus, this is true ; and in reality you shall experi- 
 ence it very soon, 
 
TEItENTII ADELPHI. H3 
 
 ACT V. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Get a from Sostrata's house. He turns, and speaks 
 to her within.) 
 
 Gcta I am going, my mistress, to them hither to see 
 how soon they may call the virgin to them, (he turns about) 
 but behold Demea ! may you be well in health ! Dem. 
 Oh ! who are you called ? Get. Geta. Dem. Geta, I have 
 this day judged in my mind that you are a man of the 
 greatest value. For that servant truly is to me suffici- 
 ently proved, to whom his master is of care, so as I have 
 perceived to be to you, Geta. And on. account of that 
 circumstance, if an opportunity as to any thing shall have 
 arrived, I shall with pleasure benefit you. (aside) I am 
 studying to be affable, and it goes on well. Get. (bow- 
 ing) You are good to me, when you estimate these things. 
 Dem. (aside) First of all I make the lower class mine by 
 little and little. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter ^Eschinus from Micio's house, and walks in 
 front without seeing the others.) 
 
 JEschi?ius. They destroy me truly while they are study- 
 ing to make my nuptials too sanctified ; in preparing 
 things they waste the day. Dm. ( advancing to him) 
 iEschinus, what is doing? JEsc. (turning to him) Ah! 
 ah! my father, were you here? Dem. Really and truly 
 I am your Father both in disposition and in nature, who 
 loves you more than these eyes. But why do you not call 
 your wife home ? JEsc. I desire it; but this is a delay to 
 me; the flute-player, and those who may sing the hyme- 
 neal song. Dem. Come now, are you willing to hearken 
 to that old man? JEsc. Why? Dem. Omit these things, 
 the hymeneal song, crowds, lamps, and flute-players ; 
 and order this mound in the garden here to be demolished 
 as soon as possible. Bring her across this way. Make 
 one family. Lead across both the mother and all the fa- 
 mily to us. JEsc. It please* me, O most clever father. 
 Dem. (aside) Well said ! Iain now called clever. My 
 brother's house will become accessible. This will bring a 
 crowd home, it will make expence, many things are to be 
 provided. What care I ? When I get into favour, being 
 
H4 TERENTII ADEL?HI. 
 
 called clever, (to Syrus) Order now immediately that 
 Babylo count out twenty pounds for Micio. Syrus, do you 
 delay to go and do so ? Syr. What besides ? Dem. De- 
 molish the mound. (Exit Syrus into Micio' 's house) (to Geta) 
 Do you go away, and bring them across. Get. May the 
 gods do favorably to you, Demea, since I see that you are 
 willing that every thing should be done so kindly to our 
 family. (Exit Geta into Sostrata's house) Dem. I think them 
 worthy of kindness. What do you say ? JEsc. I am thus 
 of opinion. Dem. This is much more proper, than that 
 that childbed woman should now be led hither through the 
 street in a sick condition. JEsc. Certainly. I have seen 
 truly nothing better, O my father. Dem. So I am accus- 
 tomed. But behold him, Micio is going out of doors. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Enter Micro from his house. Turns and speaks to Syrus 
 within.) 
 
 Micio. Does my brother order this ? (turning about)Vfheve 
 is he ? (seeing Demea) Do you order this, Demea ? Dem. 
 I do verily order it, and in this affair, and in all others, do 
 order that we should make as much as possible this family 
 one and the same, to respect them, assist them, and join 
 them to us. JSsc. So 1 request, father. Mic. 1 think the 
 same. Dem. Yes certainly so it is proper for us to do. In 
 the first place there is the mother of this wife. Mic What 
 afterwards ? Dem. Good and modest. Mic. So they say. Dem* 
 More advanced in years. Mic. I know it. Dem. Being old she 
 cannot have a child by reason of her years. Nor is there 
 any one who may regard her. She is a lonely woman. — 
 Mic. What is he at ? Dem. (to Micio) It is right that 
 you should marry her. (to JEschinus) And that you should 
 endeavour that this may be done. Mic. That I ? Dem. 
 You I say. Mic. You are an Idiot. Dem. (to JEschinus) 
 If you are a man, see that he does it. JEsc. (to Micio) O 
 my father! Mic. (to JEschinus) But do you listen to him, 
 you ass you? Dem. (to Micio) You are doing nothing; 
 it cannot be otherwise. Mic. You are mad. JEsc. Suffer 
 that I may prevail on you, my father, (he takes Micio by 
 the arm) Mic. Are you insane? Take away your hand. 
 Dem. Come now, give consent to your son. Mic. Are you 
 well in your senses? Shall I become a bridegroom at last 
 in my sixty-fifth year, and marry a decrepid old woman ? 
 
TERENTII ADEL^HI. 115 
 
 Are you the proposers of that to me ? JEsc. Do it. I have 
 promised them. Mic. But have you promised it ? Boy, 
 make a present of what belongs to you. Dem. Come now, 
 what if he beg something greater of you ? Mic. As if this 
 thing be not the greatest. Dem. Give consent. JEsc. Do not 
 refuse. Dem. Do it. Promise it. Mic, Do you not let me 
 alonp? JEsc. No, unless I may prevail on you. Mic. This is 
 force indeed. Dem. Take your time about it, Micio. Mic. 
 Though this thing seems to me bad, silly, absurd, and fo- 
 reign from my time of life, if ye so greatly wish it, let it be 
 done. JEsc. You do well. Deservedly I love you. Dem. But 
 what shall I say ? This thing that I wish is brought to pass. 
 What is there now that remains ? Hegio is nearest relation 
 to them, a neighbour to us, and poor. It becomes us to do 
 something kindly to him. Mic. To do what? Dem. There 
 is a small piece of ground here close under the city, which 
 you let to strangers. Let us give it to him to enjoy it. — 
 Mic. But is that a small piece? Dem. If it is much, yet 
 it must be done. He is a father to her. He is a good 
 man. He is our own. It is properly given to him. 
 Lastly, I do not account that saying my own which 
 you, Micio, well and wisely said not long since, " It is a 
 common vice of all men, that in old age we are too atten- 
 tive to the money." It becomes us to avoid this stain. That 
 saying was in truth, and it is proper that it should be done 
 in reality. Mic. What then ? It shall be given indeed, 
 since (pointing to Demea) He wishes it. j^sc. O my father ! 
 Dem. (shaking hands with Micio) Now are you my brother 
 alike in body and mind. Mic. I rejoice. Dem. (aside and 
 laughing) I am cutting his throat with his own sword. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE VII. 
 
 (Enter Syrus from Micio's house. 
 
 Syrus. That which you ordered, Demea, has been done. 
 Dm. You are a careful man ! I in fact judge this day, in 
 my own opinion indeed, that it is right, that Syrus be made 
 free. Mic. That he be made free ? For what deed ? 
 Dem. Many deeds. Syr. O our Demea, in fact you are a 
 good man. I have diligently taken care of those two ever 
 since boys for you. 1 have taught them, advise them, always 
 instructed them well all things that I was able to teach. Dem. 
 The thing is apparent. And moreover also these things ; to 
 buy provisions; faithfully to fetch a harlot, to pr^ are a 
 feast on a particular day. These are the duties of nomid- 
 I 2 
 
116 TERENT1J ADELPHI. 
 
 dling genius. Syr. O what a witty fancy ! Dem. Lastly to-day 
 he was an abettor here in buying that music-girl ; he took 
 care of her. It is a just thing to serve him; others will 
 be the better. Lastly, (pointing to JEschinus) he wishes 
 it to be done. Mic. (to JEschinus) Do you wish this to 
 be done? JEsc. I do desire it. Mic. If indeed you wish 
 it; Syrus, Ho! come hither to me! Syrus goes on his 
 knees , and he touches his shoulder) Be thou free ! Syr. 
 {rising up) You act kindly. I give thanks to all, and to 
 you, Demea, separately besides. Dem. I rejoice. JEsc. 
 And I also. Syr. I believe it. O that this joy be made 
 perpetual, that I may see my wife Phrygia free together 
 with me. Dem. An excellent woman indeed ! Syr. 
 And indeed to your grandson, the son (pointing to Ms- 
 chinus) of him, to-day she gave the first breast of milk. 
 Dem. Indeed and in truth seriously, if indeed she gave 
 the first breast, it is not doubtful but it be just, that she 
 should be made free. Mic. On account of that affair? 
 Dem. On account of that. Lastly take from me the mo- 
 ney, as much as is the price. Syr. May all the gods offer 
 to you, Demea, all things wished for by you, ever and 
 always ! Mic. Syrus, you have gone on finely to day. 
 Dem. If moreover you will do your duty Micio, you will 
 also have given some little money for him to have in hand, 
 whence he may use it occasionally. He will give it back 
 to you soon. Mic. That is still worse. JEsc. He is a 
 careful man. Syr. I give it back really. Only grant it to 
 me. JEsc. Do it, father. Mic. I will think ot it here- 
 after. Dem. He will do it. Syr. O excellent man ! JEsc. 
 O my most jocund father. Mic. (to Demea) What 
 is that circumstance? What affair hath so suddenly 
 changed your manners ? What is this profuseness ? 
 What is that sudden bountifulness? Dem. I will tell you, 
 that 1 might shew that proofi as to what they call good- 
 natured and festive, that it does not happen from a true 
 mode of life, nor therefore from justice and good prin- 
 ciple, but from assenting, indulging, and making gifts, 
 Micio. Now therefore iEschinus, if my life is hateful 
 to yon all on that consideration, because I do not grant 
 wholly all things altogether unjust and injurious, 1 have 
 done with them. Throw away your inouey, make pur- 
 chases, do ye what is pleasant to you. Bui if ye choose 
 that conduct rather in me, that I may reprove and correct, 
 and in proper place promote these things which ye on ac- 
 count of your youth discern less, more extravagantly de- 
 
TERENTII ADELPHI. 117 
 
 sire, and consult little about, behold me ready, who will 
 do that for you both. JEsc. O my father, we give up to 
 you. You know more, what is necessary to be done. 
 But concerning my brother what will be done ? Dem* 
 I permit that he may have her. Let him make an end of 
 the affair in marrying her. JEsc. That is rightly done, 
 (Addressing the audience) Clap ye your hands ! 
 
TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 CHARACTERS IN THE COMEDY. 
 
 Demipho and Chremes, — old gentlemen, brothers, 
 
 Geta, — servant to Demipho. 
 
 Davits, — a servant, friend to Geta. 
 
 Phormio. — a Parasite, and crafty man. 
 
 Antipho, — a young man, son to Demipho. 
 
 Phcedria, — son to Chremes by Nausistrata. 
 
 JDoriOy — a pimp, and slave-merchant. 
 
 Nausistrata, — wife to Chremes. 
 
 Phanium, — a young girl daughter to Chremes, by another 
 
 wife. 
 Sophrona, — her nurse. 
 
 Dorcium, — a maid servant, who does not appear. 
 Hegio, Cratinus, and Crito, — three lawyers. 
 Hegio, — is represented on the Westminister Stage as a 
 
 conceited young lawyer. 
 Cratinus, — an elderly pompous, slow-speaking lawyer. 
 CritQ, — stutters so, that with great difficulty he at length 
 
 utters the little he has so say. 
 
 Phanium does not appear. 
 
119 
 
 THE ARGUMENT, OR STORY OF THE PHORMIO. 
 
 DEMIPHO, and Chremes, brothers, lived at Athens. 
 Chremes at Athens was married to a rich wife, Nausis- 
 trata, and had a son by her, Phaedria. Nausistrata had 
 rich farms and lands in Lemnos, and Chremes used to go 
 there often to receive the rents and produce. While he 
 resided there, falling in love with a woman of poor con- 
 dition, he married her also, and had by her a daughter, 
 Phanium ; and lest the affair might be found out, ordered 
 himself to be called Stilpho at Lemnos. He supported 
 his other wife there with his daughter. He returned to 
 Athens. Demipho his brother had a son Antipho> and 
 when Phanium was fifteen years old, both the old men 
 agree that Chremes should bring his Lemnian wife and 
 daughter to Athens privately, and that Demipho should 
 marry his son to Phanium. In consequence of this Chre- 
 mes goes to Lemnos, and at the same time Demipho hap- 
 pened to go into Cilicia. Both of them going away leave 
 their sons in care of Geta, a servant. After the old men 
 were gone, Phaedria falls in love with a Music-girl, slave 
 to a pimp, but had no money to purchase her from him. 
 While Chremes is going to Lemnos, his wife there impa- 
 tient of his having staiii away longer than usual, embarks 
 on board a ship with her daughter and the nurse, and 
 comes to Athens, and enquiring for Stilpho, cannot hear 
 of him. The mother is taken sick and dies. Phanium 
 and her nurse take care of the funeral, and Antipho see- 
 ing Phanium, falls in love with her. He goes next day 
 to the nurse trying to get possession of her, but is refused 
 by the nurse, unless he marries her. While he is in 
 doubt, and fearing his father, Phormio the Parasite pro- 
 poses the following plan ; there was a law at Athens as to 
 orphan girls, that the nearest of kin must marry them, 
 or else give them a dowry. Says the Parasite, I will pre- 
 tend that I am a friend of the girl's father, and will call 
 you into court to force you to marry the girl ; you will be 
 silent* and will be cast; thus you will be married to the 
 girl you love, and have an excuse for it to your father. 
 All things turn out as the Parasite said, and they are mar- 
 ried. The old men return, and Demipho is enraged that 
 
120 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 his son has married thus. Chreraes is grieved that an p- 
 portunity is lost of marrying his daughter as he wished ; 
 at the same time the pimp threatens Phaedria that unless 
 he would immediately give thirty pounds for the girl, he 
 would sell her. Geta contrives a trick to get the money. 
 He tells the old men, that Phormio had consented with 
 thirty pounds portion to marry the girl whom Antipho 
 had married, and take her off their hands. For this pur- 
 pose, Demipho getting the money from Chremes, pays it 
 to Phormio. The latter gives it to Phaedria, and he to 
 the pimp, and thus gets his mistress. Chremes discovers 
 Phanium, Antipho's wife, to be his daughter. The old 
 men rejoice at this event, but are grieved tor their thirty 
 pounds given. They try to recover the money from 
 Phormio, first by wheedling, then by trying to drag him 
 to justice. Phormio, who had been informed concerning 
 Chremes's wife at Lemnos, and his having a daughter, 
 calls out Nausistrata, and discovers to her Chremes's af- 
 fairs. He tells of himself having given the thirty pounds 
 to Phaedria, and Phaedria to the pimp for his mistress. 
 Nausistrata, a virago, who raged at her husband, is at 
 length appeased, and leaves all things to the judgement of 
 her son Phaedria. 
 
TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 {Scene — a street in Athens, Temples and Houses inter" 
 mixed, Dmiphcfs house on one side, and that of Chre- 
 mes on the other, with their doors opposite.) 
 
 ACT. I. SCENE I. 
 
 {Enter Davus from the back scene, and advances to the 
 front, holding a purse of money in his hand,) 
 
 Davus. My particular friend and neighbour Geta 
 came to me yesterday. There was a small sum of money 
 left in my hands for a time past of a little account,' and 
 he wished me to make it up for him. I have gathered 
 it up, and am bringing it to him. (he chucks up the purse) 
 For I hear that his master's son has married a wife. 
 For her I suppose this is scraped up as a gift. How 
 wrong it is, that those who have but little, must always 
 give something to those that are richer. What he ounce 
 by ounce hath with difficulty and misery spared from his 
 wages, cheating his own inclination, that woman will 
 sweep it all away, not thinking with how much trouble 
 it was got. Moreover Geta will be smote with another 
 gift, when his mistress shall have lain-in. Moreover with 
 another, when the child's birth-day shall come; and when 
 they shall initiate it in sacred rites. All this the mother 
 will carry off. The child will be the cause of sending 
 the money. ( The door of Demipho's house is opened) But 
 do I see Geta? 
 
 ACT. I. SCENE II. 
 
 {Enter Geta from Demiphoe's house. He turns about f 
 the door being open, and speaks to those within.) 
 
 Geta. If any red-haired man shall enquire for me 
 JDav. {slapping him on the shoulder) He is here, break 
 
122 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 off. Get. {turning round) Oh ! Davus, I was going to 
 meet you. Dav. Well, take the money. It is counted. 
 The number of pieces will be found exact, as to what I 
 owed you. Get. {taking the purse) I love you, and thank 
 you for not neglecting it. Dav. Especially as the ways of 
 the world now are ; if any one pavs back any thing, one 
 should be greatly thankful to him. But why are you sad? 
 Get. Who I? Oh, you know not what a fright and peril 
 lam in. Dav. What is that? Get. You shall know, 
 if you can but be secret. Dav. Got you gone, you fool ! 
 Are you afraid to trust words to that man, whose faith 
 you have found in money matters ? Where is any profit 
 to me to deceive you ? Get. Therefore listen. Dav. I 
 give this attention to you. Get. Have you known, Davus, 
 the elder brother of our old man, named Chremes? Dav. 
 Why not ? Get. What, and his son Phaedria too have 
 you known ? Dav. As well as I have known you. Get. 
 It Happened to the two old men at the same time that the 
 one went to Lemnos, ours journeyed to Cilicia to an old 
 friend. The latter enticed the old man by letters, pro- 
 mising little short of mountains of gold. Div. To him 
 who had so great property, and more than enough ? Get. 
 Stop; such is his disposition. Dav. Oh, he thought to 
 himself, I ought to be a king. Get. Both the old men 
 then going away, leave me as it were a governor to their 
 sons, Dav. O Geta, you undertook a hard management. 
 Get. The experience of that comes to me, so far I know. 
 I remember 1 was left thus, heaven being augry with me. 
 I began at first to thwart the youths ; why need I say 
 more ? While faithful to the old man, I had my shoulders 
 flayed. Dav. Those things occurred to me, for it is silli- 
 ness that you kick against the goad. Get. I began to do 
 every thing they wished, and to comply. Dav. You knew 
 how to make your market. Get. Our young man did 
 nothing bad at first. This Phaedria immediately got a 
 certain young woman, a music-girl, and began to love her 
 desperately. She was a slave to a most worthless pimp, 
 nor was there any thing that could be given to him, for 
 the fathers had taken care of that. Nothing else remained 
 but to feed his eyes, to follow her, to lead her to the 
 dancing school, and to hand her back. We having lei- 
 sure, gave our attention to Phaedria. In the school in 
 which she was learning, exactly opposite was a barber's 
 shop. Here we were generally used to wait for her until 
 she was going home. In the mean time, while we arc 
 
TEUENTII FHORMIO. 123 
 
 sitting there, comes in a certain young man, weeping. 
 We began to wonder. We ask him what may be the mat- 
 ter. " Never, says he, equally as now has poverty seem- 
 ed a miserable and heavy load to me. I just now saw a 
 young woman in this neighbourhood lamenting her de- 
 parted mother. She was lodged on the opposite side of 
 the way. Nor was there any charitable person, nor ac- 
 quaintance, nor relation, except one old woman, who 
 might assist the funeral. 1 pitied her. The girl herself 
 with a handsome face." What need is there of words? He 
 had affected us all with his account. There Antipho im- 
 mediately said, are ye willing we may go to visit her? I 
 think, said another, that we may go. Conduct us, I pray 
 you. We go, we come to her, we see her. The virgin 
 was beautiful, and to speak in stronger terms of that, there 
 was no aid whatever to her beauty. Her hair dishevelled, 
 her foot naked, her person ghastly — tears and dirty gar- 
 ment; insomuch, that unless the power of beauty were 
 inherent in her very form, these things would extinguish 
 her beauty. He who loved that music-girl, says only, she is 
 
 a fine girl enough ; our youth truly Dav. Now I know ; 
 
 he began to love her. Get. Do you know how ? See how 
 it may turn out. The next day he goes straightway to the 
 old woman, beseeches her that she may give him possession 
 of the girl. But she denies that she can grant it, and that 
 it was not right that he should act so; that the girl was a 
 citizen of Attica, of good birth, born of good parents. If 
 he wished her for a wife, that it was lawful for him legally 
 to do so. If otherwise, she refuses to comply. Our young 
 man knew not what to do. He both desired to marry her, 
 and dreaded his absent father. Dav. Would not his 
 father, if he should have returned, give him leave to 
 marry her? Get. What, that he would give him a giri 
 without a portion, and ignoble ? He would never do it. 
 Dav. What is done at last? Get. What may be done? 
 There is a certain Parasite called Phormio, a man of auda- 
 city, who, may all the gods confound him Dav. 
 
 What hath he done? Get. Gave this advice which I will 
 mention. There is a law that orphan-girls must marry 
 those that are nearest a-kin, and the same law compels 
 those to marry them. Says he, I will say that you are a 
 relation of hers f and will enter an action at law against 
 you. I will pass myself oflf as a friend of the father of the 
 virgin. We shall come to the judges. Who her father 
 was, and who her mother, and how she is related to you, 
 
124 TERKNTH FHORMIO. 
 
 all these things I will fabricate ; as far as will be good and 
 convenient for me. Since you will not refute these faN 
 sities, I shall gain the suit. Your father will then be here; 
 lawsuits will be prepared against me. What harm to me? 
 The girl indeed will be ours. Dav. What jesting auda- 
 city ! Get. The young man was persuaded. It was done. 
 He came into court. We are cast. He married the girl. 
 Dav. What do you relate? Get. This which you are 
 now hearing. Dav. O Geta, what is to become of you ? 
 Get. I know not truly. One thing 1 do know, whatever 
 fortune shall bring, we will bear it with a composed mind. 
 Dav. That pleases me. Ay, that is the manly part. Get. 
 All my hope rests on myself. Dav. I approve of you. 
 Get. I believe that I may go to some intercessor, who may 
 entreat for me thus; now excuse him, I beg; but if he 
 ever does any thing hereafter, I entreat no further; only 
 let him not add, when I shall have departed hence, punish 
 him in the severest manner possible* Dav. What is that 
 dangler doing, who loves the minstrel-girl ? What affair 
 is he carrying on ? Get. He is going on so so, pretty well. 
 Dav. He has not much to give perhaps. Get. Nothing 
 verily, but mere hope. Dav. Has his father returned, or 
 not? Get. Not as yet. Dav. What? How soon do you 
 expect your old man ? Get. I do not know for certain ; 
 but I have heard just now that a letter was brought here 
 from him, and was carried to the custom-house officers. 
 I will hunt after that letter. Dav. Do you want any thing 
 more of me, Geta? Get. That it may be well with you. 
 (Exit Davus at the side scene.) Get. (Going to the door of 
 Demipho's house). Harkye Boy ! Does nobody go forth 
 here? (The hoy comes to the door.) Take this, and give it 
 to Dorcium. (Geta gives the purse, and exit at the side 
 scene.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Antjpho and Phjedri a from the back scene 9 and 
 walk up the stage together.) 
 
 Antipho. Oh ! That the affair should have come to this 
 pass, Phaedria, that I should dread my father, him who 
 wishes best to my welfare, whenever I think of his arrival j 
 that unless I had been unthinking, I might expect him as 
 was right and proper ! Phce. What is that affair ? Ant. Da 
 you ask the question, who know my conduct so audacious^. 
 
TERBNTH PHORMIO. 125 
 
 How I wish it had never entered Phormio's mind to urge 
 that matter, that he had never impelled me forward in my 
 eagerness to that point, which is the beginning of calamity 
 tome! I should not have possessed her; it would have 
 been that some days might be unpleasant ; but this daily 
 care would not rack my mind. Phce. I hear you. Ant. 
 While I am expecting how soon he may come, who may 
 take away my opportunity of living with Phanium. Phce. 
 Others are unhappy because they have not what they love. 
 You are grieving because they have a full measure of 
 success. You have abundance of love, Antipho. For 
 your state is truly and certainly much to be desired and 
 wished for. May Heaven protect me, I wish to ratify by 
 my death, that so long as I live it may be in my power to 
 enjoy what I love. Conjecture thou the rest, as to what I 
 shall get from this deprivation, and what you from that 
 abundance. I need not add that without expence you have 
 got a handsome, genteel girl. That you have, as you 
 wished, a wife without a bad reputation abroad. A happy 
 man, unless one thing be wanting, a mind to bear these 
 things properly. But if you had to do with that pimp that 
 I have, then you would feel. We are most of us of that 
 disposition, that it repents us of our own success. Ant. 
 But you, Phaedria, on the contrary, now seem to me a 
 fortunate man, who have the power of determing anew, 
 according to your inclination, to retain, to love, or to quit 
 your object. Unhappy I have fallen into that situation, 
 that I have neither power of quitting her, nor of retaining 
 her. But (looking at the side scene) what' is this ? Do I 
 see Geta coming here in great haste ? It is he himself. 
 Alas ! In misery I dread what affair he may now report to 
 me. (Antipho and Phadria retire.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE IV. 
 
 {Enter Geta hastily from the side scene. He goes to the 
 Jront, without seeing the other s^ and hurries to and fro.) 
 
 Geta. You are lost, Geta, unless you quickly find some 
 scheme, so suddenly now so great evils threaten you while 
 unprepared. Which I neither know how I can avoid, nor 
 how to extricate myself from them ; for now my audacity 
 can no longer be concealed ; which things, if not craftily 
 provided against, will ruin either me or my master. Ant. 
 (behind) Why does Geta come here so agitated ? Get. 
 
126 TERENTII PHORMIO 
 
 Then I must nick the time for this affair ; for my master 
 is come. Ant. {behind) What calamity is that ? Get. 
 Which when he has heard, what remedy shall I find to 
 his rage ? If I speak, I shall kindle him into a flame. If 
 I am silent, I may put him in a fury. If I clear myself, I 
 may as well wash a brickbat white. Alas ! wretched me ! 
 When I am frightened for myself, Antipho also tortures 
 my mind. I feel pity for him. I am now in dread on his 
 account. He now keeps me here. For were it not for him, 
 I would properly have looked to myself, and have punished 
 the anger of the old man; I would have scraped up some- 
 thing, and would immediately take to my heels from this 
 place. Ant. What flight or theft is he preparing? Get. 
 But where shall I find Antipho, or by what road shall I go 
 to look for him? Phce. {to Antipho) He names you. Ant. 
 {to Phcedria) I expect some great misfortunes, I know not 
 what, by this messenger. Phce. Ah ! Are you in your 
 senses ? Get. I will step on to go home. There is the best 
 chance. Phce. Let us call back the man. Ant. {catling to 
 Geta) Stop instantly. Get. {going on) Hah ! You take 
 authority enough, whoever you are. Ant. {loud) Geta ! Get. 
 (turning about) It is the very man whom I wanted to meet. 
 Ant. Tell me, I beseech you what news you bring, and if 
 you can, tell it in one word. Get. I will do so. Ant. Speak 
 
 out. Get. Just now at the port Ant. Did you see my 
 
 father ? Get. Yon have hit it. Ant. I am undone. Get. 
 Hah 1 Ant. What shall I do ? Phce. What do you say? 
 Get. {to Phcedria) That I have seen his father your uncle. 
 Ant. But what remedy now shall I find, miserable as I am, 
 to this sudden ruin ? But if my fortunes return to that 
 pass, that I must be dragged away from thee, my Phanium, 
 no longer is life to be desired by me. Get. Therefore, 
 since these things are so, Antipho, it is proper that you 
 should be vigilant so much the more. Fortune assists the 
 brave. Ant. I am not master of myself. Get. But now 
 it is necessary that you be particularly so, Antipho ; for if 
 your lather shall perceive you timid, he will think you have 
 been guilty of the crime. Phce. This is truth. Ant. I 
 have it not in my power to be altered. Get. What would 
 you do if something else more difficult was now to be done 
 by you ? Ant.When I cannot effect this, the less could I ef- 
 fect that. Get. This is nothing, Phaedria. Come, come. 
 Why are we wasting our efforts in vain here ? Moreover 
 I march off. {he turns away) Phce. {turning away) And I 
 entreat you. What if I put on an appearance ? {he holds up 
 
TERENTII PHORMIO. 127 
 
 his head,) Is that enough ? Get. You are only chattering. 
 Ant. Look ye at my face. Hah ! {holding his head back) 
 is it sufficient to look thus? Get. It is not. Ant. (rising 
 on tiptoe and shaking his head J What if thus? Get. Nearly. 
 Ant. (with a loud voice, and stepping on erect) What do you 
 think of me thus? Get. That is enough. Hah! stick to 
 that, and that you answer him word for word, like for 
 like, lest in his rage by his harsh-spoken words he may 
 disarm you. Ant. I know. Get. Say that against your 
 will you were compelled by force, by the law, and judg- 
 ment. Doy°ii conceive? (he looks towards the hack scene) 
 But who is this old man that I see at the end of the street? 
 Ant. It is he himself. I cannot be present. Get. Ah! 
 what are you about? (Antipho steps aside) Where are you 
 going, Antipho? Stay, I say. Ant. I myself know my- 
 self, and my crime. To you both I commit my Phanium, 
 and my life. (Exit Antipho at the side scene.) Pha?. Geta, 
 what shall be done now ? Get. Now you will hear wrang- 
 lings. I shall bear the brunt, if I am not mistaken. But 
 that which we just now advised Antipho here to do, it 
 behoves ourselves to do, Phaedria. Phce. Have done with 
 the word behoves, but do you command what I shall do. 
 Get. Have you in memory how your speech was formerly, 
 to defend a vexatious suit, in the opening the cause? That 
 that cause was just, easy of comprehension, convincing, 
 excellent. Phce. I have recollected it. Get. Well, now 
 there is need of the very same, or if possible, better and 
 more crafty. Pha?. It shall be done carefully. Get. Now 
 do you accost him first ; I will be in ambush here in 
 reserve, if you shall fail in any thing. Phce. Come on then. 
 {They retire). 
 
 ACT I. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Demipho at the back scene, and hobbles hastily to 
 the front without seeing Phaedria and Geta. 
 
 Dem. So, has Antipho at length married a wife without 
 my orders ? nor minded my authority? But I set aside 
 my authority. That he should not at least dread my in- 
 dignation ? That it should not shame him ? O audacious 
 deed ! (shaking his stick as if Geta was before him.) O 
 Geta ! the adviser of it ! Get. (behind) But I have found 
 one. Think of something else. Dem. Will he say this to 
 me? I did it against my will. The law forced me. I 
 
128 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 hear this. I allow it. Get. {behind) You please me now. 
 Dem. But that he, knowing the thing, should silent give 
 up the cause to his adversaries, did the law compel that 
 also? Phce. (behind) That is a hard matter. Get. {behind) 
 I will get him off that. Suffer him. Dem, I am unde- 
 termined what I shall do; because this thing hath hap- 
 pened to me beyond my expectation, and incredible. I 
 am so irritated, that I cannot adapt my mind to thinking. 
 Wherefore it behoves all men, when their affairs are prin- 
 cipally prosperous, then principally to think within them- 
 selves how they may bear adverse misfortune. Let a man 
 returning from abroad always keep in mind perils, losses, 
 banishment, or the crimes of his son, or the death of his 
 wife, or the sickness of his daughter. That these things 
 are common ; that they can happen; that nothing should 
 be new to his mind? That whatever happens beyond his 
 hope, he ought to account all that as gain. Get. (behind) 
 
 Phaedria, it is incredible how much I excel my master 
 in wisdom. All my misfortunes have been thought of by 
 me. If my master shall have returned, that I must in 
 prison constantly grind ; that I am to be flogged ; fetters 
 are to be worn ; labour to be done in the country; none of 
 these things will happen new to my mind; whatever shall 
 happen beyond my hope, all that I shall account to be 
 gain. But why do you delay to go up to the man, and to 
 address him kindly in the beginning? Dem. (seeing Pha~ 
 dria advancing to him) I see Phaedria my nephew going to 
 meet me. Phce. (advancing to him) My uncle, how are 
 you? Dem. Plow do you do? but where is Antipho ? 
 
 Phce. That you have arrived safe Dem. I do believe 
 
 you, but answer me this. Phce. He is well ; he is here. 
 But are all things quite according to your liking? Dem, 
 
 1 would they were. Phce. What is that matter? Dem. 
 Do you ask, Phaedria? Fine nuptials you made here, 
 while I was absent. Phce. What, and are you angry with 
 him now about that ? Get. (behind) What a good con- 
 triver! Dem. Am I not to be angry with him? It were 
 a pleasure to me that he were brought in my sight, that 
 he may now know, how by his own fault, I his mild father 
 have been made most rigorous. Phce. But he has done 
 nothing, uncle, that you should be angry at. Dem. Be- 
 hold truly all things alike I They all agree I Shall you 
 have known one of them, you will have known them 
 all. Phce. It is not so. Dem. This one is in fault, the 
 other is here to defend him. When this other is in fault, 
 
TERENTII PHOllMIO. 129' 
 
 the first is ready. They mutually give their assistance. 
 Get. {behind) Well, has the old man without knowledge 
 of any thing, described their deeds. Dem. For unless 
 things were so, you would not take his part, Phaedria. 
 Phcc. If it be so, uncle, that Antipho has brought on 
 himself a fault, as to which he might have been less ma- 
 naging of his fortune or reputation than was right, I do 
 not plead for him, but let him suffer for what he has de- 
 served. But if by chance some person, borne on his own 
 malice, has laid traps for our youth, and cast him, is that 
 our fault, or that of the judges? who often for envy take 
 away from the rich man, and for pity give it to the poor 
 man? Get. Unless I had known the cause, I should be- 
 lieve he was speaking truth. Dem. Is there any judge 
 who can know your rights, when you yourself do not 
 answer a word, so as he has done? Phce. He performed 
 the part of a well-minded youth. After he came before 
 the judges, he could not speak out his thoughts, bashfulness 
 then so stupified him in his fright there. Get. {behind) I 
 like him well. But do I delay to accost the old man as early 
 as possible? (going up to Demipho) Hail ! my master ! I re- 
 joice that you have arrived in good health. Dem. Oh ! my 
 good guardian, hail! the safeguard truly of my family, to 
 whom I committed my son, when I was departing hence! 
 Get. Already I hear that you accuse us all undeservedly, 
 and me of all these most undeservedly. For what have 
 you wished me to do in this affair for you ? The laws do 
 not permit a servant man to plead a cause, nor is there any 
 delivery of his testimony. Dem. I set aside all matters. 
 I add that consideration, the ignorant youth was fright- 
 ened. I allow, you are a servant. But if she was very 
 truly related to him, it was not necessary to have her, but 
 that which the law commands, ye should give her a 
 dowry ; she might seek another husband. For what reason 
 did he rather conduct a destitute girl home? Get. Reason 
 . was not wanting, but the cash. Dem. He might take it 
 up from some one. Get. From some one ? Nothing is 
 easier said. Dem. Lastly, if by no other means, by bor- 
 rowing it at interest. Get* Hi ! ho ! finely you have 
 spoken, as if any one would trust him, you being alive. Dem* 
 It shall not, it shall not be so, it cannot. Shall I suffer 
 her to be married with him during one day ? Nothing 
 agreeable has been deserved. I wish that fellow was shewn 
 to me, or the place where he dwells was shewn to me. 
 Get. To wit, Phormio? Dem- That protector of the 
 
130 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 woman. Get. I will make him come here immediately. 
 Dem. Where is Antipho now? Phce. He is from home. 
 Bern. Begone, Phsedria, look for him, and bring him 
 hither. Phce. I go by the direct road truly thither. Get, 
 {aside to Phcedria) That is to Pamphila. Exeunt Geta and 
 Phcedria at the back scene.) Dem, Now I will go from 
 hence to salute the houshold gods. From thence I will 
 go to the Forum, and will engage some friends as advo- 
 cates for me, who may be present at this business, that I 
 may not be unprepared, if Phormio may come to me. 
 {Exit Demipho into his house.) 
 
 END OF THE FIRST ACT. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Phormio and Geta from the back scene, and 
 advance to the front together.) 
 
 Phormio. So you say, that dreading the sight of his 
 father, he has departed hence? Get. Yes, uuiy, PA* 
 
 That Phanium has been left behind alone? Get. lnus it 
 is Pho. And that the old man is enraged ? Get. Cer- 
 tainly. Pho. (meditating) The sum of the business comes 
 to you alone, Phormio. You yourself have ground this 
 corn, by you it must all be swallowed. Be ready. Get. I 
 entreat you. Pho. (still meditating) If he shall ask me? 
 Get. In you is our hope. Pho. Let me see ! what if he 
 shall give her back? Get. You instigated us. Pho. {still 
 meditating) I am decided in that opinion. Get. Pray assist 
 us Pho. {loud and strutting) Give me the old leilow 
 now all my designs are arranged in my mind. Get What 
 will you do ? Pho. What do you wish ? unless that Pha- 
 2 nay remain here, and that I may deliver Antipho 
 from this accusation, and bring down upon myself the 
 whole raee of the old man. Get. O brave and friendly 
 man I but, Phormio, I often fear, est that bravery may 
 break you down at last. Pho. Ah! It is not so. The 
 peril has been gone through. Now the track is seen before 
 £e. How many men do you think I have flogged almost 
 to death? Strangers as well as citizens? Ihe more I 
 have known it, so much the oftner I have done it. Tell 
 me now? Lo did you ever hear of an action of assault 
 
TEtlENTlI PHORMIO. 131 
 
 brought against me ? Get. How was that ? Pho. Because 
 the net is not spread for the hawk, nor the kite, which do 
 us harm, it is spread for those which do no harm. Be- 
 cause in these there is profit, in those trouble is thrown 
 away. Different people brave different peril, from whence 
 something can be scraped away. They know that I have 
 nothing. You will say they will carry me condemned home 
 with them. They are unwilling to feed (clapping his fat 
 belly) a voracious man ; and in my opinion they are wise, 
 if they are unwilling to confer the greatest benefit, instead 
 of evil doing. Get. Sufficient gratitude cannot be returned 
 by him to you for what you deserve. Pho. Truly no one is 
 sufficiently grateful to his Patron for what he deserves. Sup- 
 pose yourself to come to him free of the reckoning, anoint- 
 ed and washed from the baths ! At ease from all thinking ! 
 When he is consumed with care and extravagance, while 
 you have every thing you like. He is fretting, you may 
 laugh. You may drink before he does, you may take your 
 seat on the couch prior to him — (clapping his belly) A du- 
 bious supper is put on the table. Get. What expression 
 is that ? Pho. When you may be dubious, what dish to 
 prefer. When you may be estimating how sweet, how dili- 
 cious these dainties are, may you not value the man who 
 gives these things, as actually a deity present ? Get. (looking 
 at the bach scene) The old man is here ; see what you do$ 
 The first encounter is most violent. If you shall have bore 
 up now against that, afterwards it is easy to sport as it 
 pleases you. ( They go aside.) 
 
 ACT. II. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Demi pho at the back scene, followed by three Law* 
 yers in full dress, tye-wigs, bands, and gowns. They ad' 
 vance half way up the stage, the Lawyers in a row.) 
 
 Dem. (turning to the lawyers) Lo ! Have ye ever heard of 
 injury more insultingly done to any man, than this is to me ? 
 Attend here, I request you. Get. (aside to Phormio) He 
 is in a rage. Pho. But do you mind this. Hist! 
 Now I will stir him up. (Phormio and Gcta advance for- 
 ward) Pho. (strutting and speaking loud to GetaJ Oh ! 
 Immortal deities ! Does Demipho deny that this Pha- 
 nium is related to him ? Does Demipho that she is re- 
 lated ? Get. He does deny it. Pho. And that he does 
 not know her father, who he was ? Get. He denies that 
 he knows, Dem. (behind addressing the lawyers) I think 
 
132 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 that is the very man of whom I was discoursing. Follow 
 me. (They all advance nearer to Phormio and Geta) Pho. 
 {to Geta) Nor that he knows Stilpho himself who he was? 
 Get. He denies it. Pho. Because the wretched girl is left 
 destitute, her father is not acknowledged, and she herself 
 is neglected. See what avarice does. Get, If you shall 
 accuse my master of what is bad, you shall hear bad tidings. 
 Dem. (behind) O what audacity ! Does he come here also 
 of his own accord to accuse me ? Pho. For now there is 
 nothing for which I may be angry with the young man, if 
 lie had by no means known him ; for the man, now advanc- 
 ed in age, and poor, whose life was labour, generally kept 
 himself in the country. There he held a field for tillage 
 from the father of our young man. Often in the mean time 
 the old man used to tell me, that this his relation neglected 
 him. But what a man ! Whom I can have seen excellent 
 in his manner of life. Get. You may mind yourself and 
 him, as you are talking thus. Pho. Go to perdition, for un- 
 less I had esteemed him so, I would never take up enmi- 
 ties so heavy against your family on account of her, whom 
 he now casts off so illiberally. Get. (collaring him) Do you 
 persist, you most villainous man, to abuse my absent master ? 
 Pho. But this is fit for him. Get. Do you say so still, you 
 ^Jjail-bird ? Don. (calling from behind) Geta I Get. {still 
 ^ shaking Phormio) You extortor of money, you twister of 
 the laws ! Dem. (again calling out) Geta ! Pho. (aside 
 Jo Geta) Answer him. Get. (looking back) What man is 
 here ? Oho 1 Dem. (to Geta) Be silent. Get. He has 
 never stopped to-day saying abusive things, unworthy of 
 you, but worthy of himself, against you absent. Dem. 
 Ay 1 Ay ! Stop a while ! (hobbles to the front near 
 Phormio) Young man, first I ask this from you with your 
 good leave, if you can be civil, that you may answer me. 
 Who do you say was that friend of yours, ? Explain to 
 me, and how he could say that I was a relation to him ? 
 Pho, So then you are fishing out, as if you had not known it? 
 Dem. Had known it ? Pho. Just so. Dem. I deny I know 
 it ; you who say it, bring it back into remembrance. Pho. 
 Oh ! ho you 1 Had not you known your own cousin ? Dem. 
 You torture me ! Tell me the name. Pho. The name ? 
 Most certainly. Dem. Why are you silent now ? Pho. 
 (aside) I am lost ; by Hercules, 1 have forgot the name. 
 Dem. Well, what do you say? Pho. (aside to Geta) Geta, 
 if you remember what was before told me, whisper it. (Aloud 
 to Demipho) Well, I do not tell it, for as if you knew it not 3 
 
TERENTII PHORMIO. 133 
 
 you come to tempt me. Dem. But do I tempt you ? Get, 
 {in a whisper to Phormio) Stilpho. P/io. (to Demipho) And 
 as to that, how does it affect me ? It is Stilpho. Dem, 
 {stooping his head to him) Whom said you ? Pho. [bawling 
 close to Demiphds ear) Stilpho, I say, had you known ? 
 Dem, (drawing his head back) I neither had known him, 
 nor was there any relation to me with that name. Pho. Is 
 it so ? Does it not shame you of these things ? But if he 
 
 had left a property often talents Dem. May the gods 
 
 afflict you ! Pho. You would be the first, bringing for- 
 ward from memory your race as far back as from your 
 grandfather and great grandfather. Dem. Suppose it as you 
 say ; I then, when I might have arrived, would tell how she 
 was related to me; do you act in the same way. Tell me how 
 she is related. Get. Well done, my master ! Rightly said 1 
 (to Phormio) Harkye you, have a care ! Pho. I have clearly 
 explained to the judges whom it behoved me to explain to. 
 Then if the thing had been false, why hath not your son re- 
 futed it ? Dem. Do you mention my son to me, of whose sil- 
 liness enough cannot be said, as is fit for him. Pho. But you, 
 who are sapient, go to the magistrates, that they may give 
 judgment to you again of the same law-suit ; forasmuch as 
 you alone are monarch, and to you alone it is lawful here 
 to get judgment twice concerning the same suit. Dem. 
 Although injury has been done to me, yet notwithstanding, 
 rather than I may carry on suits, or hear your voice, just 
 as if she was related to me, that which the laws commands 
 to give her a dowry, carry her away with you, and receive 
 five pounds. Pho. (laughing) Ha! Ha! Ha! A pleasant 
 man ! Dem. What is it ? Do I require what is unjust ? 
 Pho, I pray you, does the law at length order thus, that, in 
 the same way as when you may have abused a harlot, you 
 may give her a sum of money and send her away ? Or 
 whether, les?. a citizen should suffer any injury on account 
 of poverty, is she not ordered to be given to the nearest rela- 
 tion, that he should pass his life with her ? which you 
 forbid ? Dem. It is so to the nearest relation indeed, but 
 whence are we to be brought in, or on what account? Pho. 
 Oh ! ho ! As they say, act not what has been acted. 
 Dem. Shall I not act? Verily I will not cease, until I shall 
 have brought this to pass. Pho. You talk foolishly. Dem. 
 Suffer me though. Pho. Lastly, we have nothing to do 
 with you, Demipho. Your son has been condemned, not 
 you ; for your age for marrying had long ago passed by. 
 Dem, Think that he says all these things which 1 now say ; 
 
134 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 or truly I will prohibit him, with this wife of his, from my 
 house. Get. {aside to Phormio) He is in a rage. Pho* 
 (to Demipho) You have better have done that same. Dem. 
 Are you thus prepared to do all things against me, 
 wretched man ? Pho. (aside to Geta) He is afraid of us, 
 although he carefully dissembles. Get, (aside) Your be- 
 ginnings are well. Pho. (to Demphio) Moreover you must 
 bear, what must be borne. You will have done a thing 
 worthy of your usual deeds, that we be friends together. 
 Dem. May I seek your friendship } (he moves about in 
 great anger) or wish to see you, or hear you ? Pho. If 
 you will agree with her, you will have one who may 
 delight your old age. Have a regard to your time of life. 
 Dem. Let her delight yourself; have her to yourself. 
 Pho. Now truly calm your anger. Dem. Mind this. Now 
 there is enough of words. Unless ) r ou hssten to carry off 
 the woman, I will cast her out. (loud in Phormid's ear) 
 I have spoken, Phormio. Pho. If you touch her otherwise 
 than is proper to treat a person of genteel family, I will 
 fasten upon you a huge action of damages {loud in De~ 
 miphds ear). I have spoken, Demipho. (Phormio walks away 
 and spealcs aside to Geta) If there shall be any occasion 
 for me, liarkye, you will find me in my house. Get. I un- 
 derstand. (Exit Phormio at the back scene.) 
 
 ACT. II. SCENE III. 
 
 Dem. (talking to himself) With how great care and 
 anxiety does my son afflict me, who hath entangled both 
 me and himself by these nuptials ! nor does he come in my 
 sight, that I may know at least what he can say of this 
 affair, or what opinion he may have. (To Geta) Go away 
 you, see if he may have returned home, or not. Get. I 
 go. (Exit Geta into Demipho's house.) Dem. (speaking 
 to the lawyers) Ye see in what situation this affair may be. 
 What am I to do ? Say, Hegio. Heg. (with pert voice) 
 Am I to speak ? I think that Cratinus should speak, if it 
 seems proper to you. Dem. Speak, Cratinus. Cra. (pom- 
 pous and slow) Do you mean that I should speak ? Dem. 
 Yes, you. Cra. I can wish that you may do those things 
 which are to your advantage. (He takes out of a green 
 bag a large parchment brief, puts on his spectacles, and 
 studies it a while) This matter appears to me thus ; what 
 your son did when you were absent, it is just and good 
 should be annulled, and that you will obtain. (Takes off 
 
TERENTII PH0RMI0. 135 
 
 his spectacles, and makes a bow) I have spoken. Dm, Say 
 now, Hegio. Heg. (conceitedly) I do believe that he has 
 spoke earnestly in the matter. But so it is, as many men 
 as are, so many minds. Every one has his own manner of 
 judging. It does not seem to me that what has been done 
 by the laws can be rescinded, and the attempt to do so, is 
 disgraceful. Dcm, Speak, Crito. Cri. (stuttering) I-I-I- 
 th-th-th- think that th-the ma-ma-matter requ-quires m- 
 more de-de-deliberation. T-T-Tis an imp-p-p-portant 
 m-m-m-matter. Heg. Do you want us as to any thing 
 else ? Dem. (in a sarcastic tone) Ye have performed 
 finely. (The three lawyers make a low bow to Hemphio, 
 and walking stately to the back scene, exeunt with great 
 formality) Dcm. I am much more uncertain than I was 
 a while ago. (Enter Getafrom the house) Get. They deny 
 that he has returned. Dem. My brother is to be expected. 
 I will follow that advice which he shall give me concerning 
 this affair. I will go to the port to enquire to what place 
 he may betake himself. (Exit Demipho at the back scene) 
 Get. But I will seek Antipho, that he may know the 
 things that have been done here. (Exit Geta at the side 
 scene.) 
 
 END OF THE SECOND ACT. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Center Antipho from the back scene.) 
 
 Ant. {in soliloquy) Really and truly, Antipho, you are 
 much to be blamed with that disposition, that you should 
 thus have gone away from hence, and delivered up your 
 existence to be defended by others. Have you believed 
 that others would mind your business, more than your- 
 self? For, however other things were, certainly you 
 should take care of her, whom you have at home, lest 
 she, being deceived with regard to your faith, should 
 suffer any misfortune ; whose miserable hopes and posses- 
 sions are all placed on you alone, Antipho. (Enter Geta 
 from the side scene, and goes up to Antipho) Get, Truly, 
 my master, we here are for some time past blaming you 
 absent, who can have gone away. Ant, I wa§ seeking for 
 you yourself. Get. But on that account we were by no 
 
*36 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 means the more deficient. Ant. Speak, I beseech yoN ; 
 what situation are my affairs and fortunes? does my father 
 smell out any thing ? Get. Nothing truly. Ani. What 
 hope is there moreover? Get. I know not. Ant. Ah ! 
 Get. Unless that Phaedria has never ceased to do his best 
 endeavours for you. Ant. He has done nothing new in that. 
 Get. Then Phormio in this affair as in other matters has 
 shewn himself a strenuous man. Ant. What hath he 
 done? Get. He hath confuted with words the very en- 
 raged old man. Ant. Well done, Phormio ! Get. I have 
 done moreover what I could. A?it» My Geta, I love you 
 all. Get. So stand the beginnings, as I say. As yet the 
 business is tranquil ; and your father is to wait for your 
 uncle, until he may come hither. Ant. What with regard 
 to him ? .Get. That he was willing, as he said, to do what 
 appertains to this affair with his advice. Ant. How great 
 a fear I have, that my uncle is coming safe here, Geta ! 
 for, as I hear, I shall either live or die by his opinion 
 alone. -Get. {looking at Chremes's door) Phaedria is pre- 
 sent to you there. Ant. Where is he ? Get. Behold him, 
 he is going out of doors from his wrestling-school. {They 
 stand back.) 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter from Cremes's house Dorio, followed by Ph-Eduia. 
 Dorio, a shabby dressed fellow, struts along the front. J 
 
 Pha. Dorio, hear I beseech you. Dor. (i?i a surly 
 voice) I do not hear. Pha?. {taking him by the arm) For 
 a little while. Dor. [shaking him off) But let me go ! 
 Pha. Hear what I shall say. Dor. But really it tires me 
 to hear the same thiugs a thousand times. Pha. But now 
 I will say what you may hear with pleasure. Dor. Speak, 
 I hear. Pha. Cannot I obtain by prayer from you, that 
 you may wait these three days space? (Dorio walks away 
 from him) Where are you going away now ? Dor. I was 
 wondering if you would bring any thing new. Ant. {behind 
 to Geta) Ha ! I fear the Pimp, lest he may fasten some- 
 thing on his own head. Get. (to Antipho) I fear the same 
 thing, Pha. Do you not believe me ? Dor. Guess. Pha. 
 But if I give my word of honour. Dor. Stories. Pha. 
 You will say that that benefit was handsomely returned 
 with advantage. Dor. Mere talk. Pha. Believe me, you 
 will rejoice in the deed. Verily this is true. Dor. Fancies. 
 
TERENTII PHORMIO. 317 
 
 Phde. Try, it is not a long time. Dor. You are canting 
 the same tune over. Phce. You are my relation, you are 
 
 my parent, you are my friend, you — Dor. Do chatter 
 
 now. Phce. That you should be of a disposition so hard 
 and inexorable, that you can neither be softened by pity, 
 nor by entreaties 1 Dor. That you should be so un- 
 thinking and shameless, Phaedria, that you can wheedle 
 me on with fine words, and lead away my slave for nothing. 
 Ant. {to Geta) It pities me on his account. Phce. (drooping 
 his head) Alas ! by true words I am subdued. Get. (to 
 Antipho) How like himself is each of them ! Phce. Nor 
 has Antipho known, when he was occupied with other 
 care, that then this misfortune was cast upon me. Ant, 
 (advancing to Phcedria) Ah ! what is that misfortune, 
 Phaedria ? Phce. O most fortunate Antipho ! Ant. I 
 most fortunate ? Phce. Who have at home what you love, 
 nor does ever a necessity come upon you, that you should 
 contend with an evil of this sort. Ant. Have I what I love 
 at home ? Really, that is what they say, I hold a wolf by 
 the ears; for I neither know how I may let it go from me, 
 nor that I can retain it. Dor. Now that is the very case 
 with me in him. Ant. {to Dorio) Aha ! you cannot be 
 iess a pimp, I see. {to Phcedria) Has this man done any 
 thing? Phce. This man ? what the most inhuman man 
 could do. He has sold my Pamphila. Get. What ! sold ? 
 Ant. Do you say, sold her? Phce. He hath sold her. 
 Dor. How unworthy a deed ! a maiden bought with his 
 own money. Phce. I cannot prevail by entreaty that he 
 may wait for me, and change the bargain with the other, 
 during these three days, while I get from my friends that 
 money which has been promised. {To Dorio) If I shall 
 not have given it then, you may not wait one hour more. 
 Dor. Tire me out, do ! Ant. {to Dorio) It is not a long 
 time that he begs for, Dorio ; suffer him to prevail upon 
 you. This same Phaedria will double to you that which 
 you will have well deserved. Dor. Those are words. 
 Ant. Will you suffer Pamphila to be carried off from 
 this city ? Then besides will you be able to suffer the love 
 of these to be torn asunder ? Dor. Neither I, nor you. 
 Get. May all the gods put on you that which you are 
 worthy of. Dor. {to Phcedria) 1 have borne you during 
 very many months, against my inclination, promising and 
 bringing nothing, weeping. Now all these things are the 
 contrary. I found him who can give, and not be pouting. 
 (pushes by him in front). Give place to your betters. Ant. 
 
138 TERENTII PHOltMI^. 
 
 Certainly indeed, if I have remembered right, there wai 
 a day in fact formerly appointed, on which you should 
 give him the money. Phce It was done so. Dor. Do I 
 deny that? Ant. Has that day now passed over? Dor. 
 No, but this day has come before it. Ant. Doth it not 
 shame you of your falsity ? Dor. By no means, while it 
 is for the cash. Get. A dirty blackguard. Phce. Dorio, 
 does it behove you at last thus to act ? Dor. So I am. If 
 I please you, make use of me. Ant. Do you thus deceive 
 him ? Dor. Verily and truly, Antipho, he deceives me ; for 
 he knew me to be of this sort ; I believed that he was 
 otherwise than he is. He has humbugged me. I am no 
 otherwise than I have been. But however these things are, 
 yet this I will do. To-morrow early, the soldier said that 
 he would give me the money. If you shall have brought 
 it to me prior to him, Phaedria, I shall use my own deci- 
 sion, that he may be the better man who is the first to 
 give. Farewell ! {Exit Dorio at the side scene.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE III. 
 
 Phce. What shall I do? from whence can I, wretched 
 man, find the money for him so suddenly ? I who 
 have less than nothing? which money, if he could have 
 been prevailed on to wait for these three days, had been 
 promised me. Ant. Shall we thus, Geta, suffer him to 
 become miserable, who, as you said, assisted me just 
 now kindly? But do we not try to return the benefit to 
 him, when there is need ? Get. I know indeed that this 
 is just. Ant% Come on therefore, you alone can preserve 
 him. Get. What shall I do? Ant. Find the money. 
 Get. I am desirous of that, but instruct me whence I can 
 get it. Ant. My father is here. Get. I know it, but what 
 then ? Ant. Ah ! a word to a wise man is enough. Get, 
 Is it so ? Ant. Just so. Get. Truly indeed you urge me 
 finely. Are you also going hence ? am I not well off, if I 
 get no harm from your nuptials, but you must also now 
 command me in a bad tiling for his sake, to seek the 
 gallows? Ant He says the truth. Phce. What? am I a 
 cast off by you all, Geta ? Get. I do not think so, but is it 
 a little matter that the old man is now angry with us all, 
 but we must instigate him, so that no room be left for 
 entreaty? Phce. Shall another man carry her away from 
 my eyes into an unknown place? Alas ! at a time there- 
 fore when it is in your power, and while I am present with 
 
TERENTII PHORMIO. 1$9 
 
 you, talk ye with me, Antipho, contemplate me. Ant. On 
 what account? or what are you about to do? tell me. Phce. 
 To whatever part of the world she shall be carried from 
 hence, I am determined to follow her, or perish. Get. 
 May the gods prosper what you may set about, but on 
 foot, I suppose. Ant. {to Geta) See if you can give him 
 any assistance. Get. If any assistance ? what assistance ? 
 Ant. Search for some, I beseech you, lest he should do 
 something more or less, which may grieve us afterwards, 
 Geta. Get. I am searching {he meditates a while) He is 
 safe, I think, but truly I fear some evil. Ant. Be unwilling 
 to fear ; together with you we will bear advantages and 
 misfortunes. Get. How much money have you occasion 
 for ? speak ! Phce. Only thirty pounds. Get. Thirty ? 
 hah ! It is a very dear sum, Phaedria. Ant. Truly that is 
 a cheap sum. Get. Well, well, I will make them be found. 
 Phce. O my clever man ! {takes hold of his arm) Get. Take 
 yourself off hence. Pha?. There is need of the money 
 now. Get. You shall have it now; but it is necessary that 
 Phormio be given as an assistant to me to this affair. Ant. 
 He is at hand ; put any load on him most boldly, and he 
 will bear it ; he is the only man, who is a friend to his 
 friend- Get. Let us go to him therefore as quickly as pos- 
 sible. Pha?, But begone ; tell him to be ready at home. 
 Ant. Is there any thing as to which you may have need of 
 my service? Get. Nothing, but go home, and comfort 
 that miserable woman, whom I know to be now within, 
 half dead with fear. Do you delay ? Ant. There is nothing 
 I can do with equal satisfaction. {Exit Antipho into 
 Demipho's house) Pha. In what way will you do that 
 thing? Get. I will tell you in our walk ? only remove 
 yourself hence. (Exeunt Phcedria and Geta at the side 
 scene.) 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
■lid 
 
 TEttENTH PHORMfO 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Dem ipho and Chremes from the back scene t and 
 hobble on halfway to the front.) 
 
 Dem Why ? for what reason, Chremes, went you hence 
 to LemnosI have vou brought your daughter hither with 
 you? Chr. No. Dem. Why not so ? Chr. After that her 
 mother saw that I continued here very long, but at the 
 same time the age of the girl was not to await my negli- 
 gence, the people said that she herself went to me with all 
 her family. Dem. Pray why therefore did you delay so 
 long there, when you had heard that ? Chr. Indeed disease 
 detained me. Dem. Whence, or how ? Chr. Do you ask 
 that ? Old age is itself a disease. But I heard that they 
 arrived safe, from the mariner who had carried them. 
 Dem. Have you heard, Cremes, what happened to my son, 
 while I was absent ? Chr. Which fact makes me uncertain 
 of my plan ; for if I shall have brought forward this state 
 of affairs to any stranger, I must relate regularly by what 
 means, and whence she was mine. I know that you are 
 faithful to me, equally as I am to myself. If that stranger 
 shall wish that I may be connected with him, he will be 
 silent, while familiarity shall be between us, but if he shall 
 have despised me, he will know more than there was need 
 of being known. And I fear {speaking in a low voice) lest 
 my wife should come to the knowledge of this some way. 
 Which if happens, there is that necessity that I should 
 carry myself off, and get out of my hou.se. In fact of all 
 mine I alone am my own. Dem. I know that it is so, 
 and that affair is an uneasiness to me. Nor will I rest to 
 try even to the utmost, until I shall have brought to effect 
 for you that which I promised. (They step aside in con- 
 sultation.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Geta from the opposite side, and goes to the front 9 
 not seeing the old men. J 
 
 Get. I have seen no man more crafty than Phormio. I 
 come to the man to say that we have need to have money, 
 and by what means that might be done ; when I had 
 scarcely said the half, he had understood the thing. He 
 
TERENTII PHORMIO, 141 
 
 rejoiced — he praised me — be sought the old man — he 
 thanked the gods that an opportunity was given him, 
 when he might shew himself a friend to Phsedria, no 
 less than to Antipho. I bad the man wait for me at the 
 Forum ; that I would conduct the old man there, {he turns 
 round his head) But behold him here ! Who is there 
 besides ? Ay ! ay ! Phaedria's father has come. But why 
 am I frightened, cowardly beast? Whether because two are 
 offered me, whom I may deceive, instead of one? I think it 
 is more advantageous to use a double chance. I will seek 
 the money from this quarter, whence from the first I 
 settled to get it. If he gives it, that is enough. If no- 
 thing will be done by him, then I will attack this new 
 host . 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE III. 
 
 {Enter Antjpho from Demipho's house, and stops near 
 the door,) 
 
 Ant. I am expecting that Geta may betake himself back 
 here presently {looking towards the other side), but I see my 
 uncle standing with my father. Ah ! me ! how I fear in what 
 way his arrival may impel my father ! [he retires on the 
 same side of the stage) Get, I will go up to these old men 
 (he crosses over), O our Cremes ! Chr. Your servant Geta 1 
 Get. It is a pleasure that you arrived safe. Chr. I do 
 believe you. Get. What is doing ? Chr. Many things 
 appear to me arriving, as it happens, very many things 
 new. Get. So no doubt. Have you heard concerning 
 Antipho what things have been done? Chr. All things. 
 Get. [to Demipho) Had you told them to him ? (to Cremes) 
 An unworthy deed, Chremes, that we should be thus cir- 
 cumvented. Dem I was just now discoursing of that along 
 with him. Get. Truly indeed 1 also, agitating that subject 
 carefully within myself, have found, 1 think, a remedy 
 for this affair. Dem. What is it, Geta, what remedy ? 
 Get. As I went away from you, by chance Phormio meets 
 me. Chr, What Phormio? Get. He who patronised her. 
 Chr. I know. Get. It seemed to me proper to try his way 
 of thinking — I take the man aside alone — I say to him, 
 why do you not see, Phormio, that these things may be 
 settled between you thus, rather with good liking than 
 with bad? My master is liberal, and averse from litiga- 
 tion — for truly indeed all the rest of his friends just now, 
 with one voice, advised that he should cast her out head- 
 
142 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 i 
 
 long. Ant. (behind) What is he beginning to do? or 
 what will he come to to-day? Get. (continuing) Will 
 ou say that you are about to punish him by the laws, if 
 le shall hare cast her out? now that hath been explored. 
 Ah ! ha ! you will sweat enough, if you attempt any 
 thing with that man — his eloquence is of that sort, and so 
 great. But suppose that he is conquered; still at last the 
 thing is not in question respecting his wisdom, but hi* 
 money. After that I perceive the man to be softened wkb 
 these words, I say to him, we are now alone here; harkye, 
 what do you wish to be given you in hand, that my master 
 may desist from these law-suits, that she may pack off from 
 hence, and that you may not be troublesome any longer ? 
 Ant. (behind) Are the gods favourable enough to him ? 
 Get. For I know well enough, if you shall have mentioned 
 some share of what is just and proper, as he is a good man, 
 you will not exchange three words to-day between you. 
 Dem. Who ordered you to say these things? Chr. Cer- 
 tainly it could not better be brought to that point in which 
 we wished it to be. Ant. (behind) 1 am undone. Dem. 
 Proceed to speak out. Get. At first the man was mad with 
 rage. Dem. Tell me what he asks ? Get. What ? too 
 much — as much as it pleased him. Dem. Say it. Get. 
 If any one would give him a great talent. Dem. Why 
 that is truly infamous— does it shame him of nothing? 
 Get. Which I therefore told him. Prithee, what if he 
 were giving in marriage his only daughter ? It signified 
 little, said he, that he has not had a daughter, for a 
 daughter is found, who may demand a portion. That I 
 may go back to a few particulars, and pass over his silly 
 speeches, this at length was his final declaration ; I, says 
 he, even from the beginning have wished to marry the 
 daughter of my friend, as had been proper. For her dis- 
 agreeable situation came into my mind, that a poor woman 
 was given to a rich man into mere servitude; but it was 
 necessary to me to make a sham now openly to you, with 
 respect to one who might bring me some little money, 
 wherewithall I might liquidate my debts. And even now, 
 if Demlpho is willing to give as much as I receive from her 
 who is contracted to me, I would rather no other wife 
 were given me, but that one in question. Ant, (behind) 
 I am uncertain whether I shall pronounce that he acts with 
 folly or malice, knowing or ignorant. Dem. What if he 
 owes his very soul perhaps ? Get. There is a field, says 
 he, opposed to a pledge for ten pounds. Dem. Well I 
 
TERENTII PHORiMIO. 143 
 
 well ! let him marry her at once. I will give it: Get. 
 There are small houses for other ten pounds. Dem. Hillo ! 
 hoh ! it is too much. Chr. Do not cry out. Get. These 
 ten for me. A maiden slave must be bought for my wife, 
 then there is need of a good deal of furniture, and there 
 is a necessity for some expence at the wedding. For 
 these things, says he, put down properly ten pounds. 
 Dem. Enter six hundred actions at law now for that matter 
 against me. I give nothing. Is it that that scoundrel can 
 also scoff at me ? Chr. I beg of you ; I will give it. Be 
 calm. Only make your son marry that girl whom we wish. 
 Ant. (behind) Alas me ! Geta, you have destroyed me with 
 your deceits. Chr. For my sake she is cast off. It is pro- 
 per that I should defray this. Get. As soon as possible, 
 says he, make me better acquainted with the matter, if 
 they give her to me, that I may send away this young 
 woman, and may not be in doubt ; for they appointed to 
 give me the portion immediately. Chr. Let him get the 
 portion now. Let him acquaint them of his rejection of 
 the girl. Let him marry this one. Dem. May which 
 affair turn out indeed a curse to him ! Chr. Opportunely 
 for that now, I have brought money with me, a revenue 
 which my wife's farms produce at Lemnos. I will take up 
 that, and shall have told my wife, that you had need 
 of it. {Exeunt Demphio and Chremes into Demphio's 
 house.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 Ant. (adva?icing) Geta ! Get. Well then ! Ant. What 
 have you done ? Get. I have wiped the old men cltan of 
 the money. Ant. Is that well ? Get. I know not truly ; 
 so much I am ordered to do. Ant. Harkye, I flog you, if 
 you answer me any thing else, but what I ask. Get. What 
 are you saying therefore ? Ant. What may I say ? By 
 your effort most evidently my affair indeed has come lo 
 destruction. O that verily all the gods and goddesses 
 above and below, may destroy you with evil punishments ! 
 Aha ! If you may wish for any thing, commit to this man, 
 what in truth you may wish to be rightly attended to. What 
 was there less fitting than to touch this sore, or even to name 
 my wife ? A hope has been given by you to my father, 
 that she can be thrust out. Tell me now moreover, if Phor- 
 mio shall receive the portion, she is to be carried home as 
 his wife ; what will be done ? Get. But he will not marry 
 her. Ant. I have known that, but when they shall seek the 
 
14, 4 TERENTII PHORMIO. 
 
 money back, for my sake then he will probably go into the 
 pillory. Get. There is no one thing, Antipho, but what by 
 badly telling it, may be made bad. You pick out that which 
 is good in the matter, and speak of that which is 
 bad. Now hear things directly to the contrary. If he 
 shall have received the money, he must marry the wife. I 
 grant you that. A little time however at length will be given 
 for preparing the nuptials, of inviting friends, and sacrific- 
 ing. In the mean time our friends will give what they 
 promised. Out of that he will give back the money. Ant. 
 Wherefore ? Or what will he say ? Get. Do you ask ? 
 He will say, how many things, and those even prodigies 
 have happened to me after those matters ! A strange black 
 dog entered inside my house ! A snake fell down through 
 the gutter of the roof from the thatch ! The hen crowed ! 
 The magician laid on an interdict ! The soothsayer forbad 
 me to begin any new business before the winter ! Which 
 cause of delay will be most just. These things shall be done. 
 Ant. I wish only that they may be done. Get. They shall 
 be done, (he puts his arms akimbo) Look at me —(he looks 
 at Demiphds door) Your father is going out of the house. 
 Go away. Tell Phaedria that the money is forth-coming^ 
 (Exit Antipho into Chremes' s house.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Demipho and Chremes from Demipho's house, 
 Geta goes up to him.) 
 
 Demea. [to Chremes) Be at rest, I say. I will take care 
 that he may not put any words upon us. I will never rashly 
 lay aside this principle from me, but that I may bring for- 
 ward my witnesses, when I may give the money. I will also 
 recount for what reason I may give it. Get. (aside) How 
 cautious he is, when there is no need ? Chr. And there is 
 need of the thing being so done. But hasten while this eager- 
 ness remains, for if that other woman shall urge him more* 
 perhaps he may reject us. Get. You have thought of 
 the very thing. Bern, (to Geta) Therefore conduct me 
 to him. Get. I delay not. Chr. When you shall have 
 done this, go over to my wife, that she may meet the 
 girl, before she departs hence. Let her say that we 
 give her to Phormio to marry him, that she may not 
 be angry with us ; and that he is more proper for her, 
 who is more acquainted with her ; that we have not 
 stepped out of our duty ; that as much as he wished 
 of portion, has been given. Dem. What does that regard 
 
TEBENTII PHQRMIO. 14-S 
 
 you, a plague? Chr. Of great importance, Demipho. 
 Denis Is it not enough to have done your duty, if report 
 does not approve of it ? Chr. I wish that this were done 
 with her good liking also, lest she may proclaim that she 
 was turned out. Bern. I .could- do that same thing. Chr. 
 A woman will be better suited to a woman. Bern. I will 
 ask your 'wife. (Exeunt Demipho and Geta at the back 
 scene.) Chr. (meditating J I am thinking where I can now 
 find those women {he retires). 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Enter Sophiion a from Demipho's house.) 
 
 Sophrona. What shall I do ? Whom shall I unhappy 
 find a friend to me? Or to whom shall I commit my 
 thoughts? Or whence shall I implore some aid to me? 
 for I fear lest my mistress on account of my persuasion 
 maybe afflicted with unworthy ill-usage; so violently I 
 hear, the father of the young man bears these things that 
 have been done. Chr. Now who is this distressed old 
 woman, who went forth from my brother's house ? Sop. 
 To do which our poverty impelled me, when I knew that 
 these nuptials were but weak ; with that intention that her 
 life should be in the mean time in safety. Chr. Certainly 
 and truly, unless my mind deceives me, or my eyes do 
 n6t see far, I see the nurse of my daughter. Sop. Nor is 
 he traced where he is. — Chr. What am I to do? Sop. 
 Who is her father ? Chr, Am I to go to her, or do I wait 
 until I further know those things which she speaks of? 
 Sop. But if I could find him now, there is nothing that 
 I may fear. Chr. It is she herself. I will talk with her. 
 Sop. (turning round) Who is speaking here ? Chr. (calling 
 out to her) Sophrona ! Sop. And calls my name too? 
 Chr. Do look at me. Sop. O Gods ! I beseech you, is 
 this Stilpho? Chr. No. Sop. Do you deny it? Chr. 
 (taking her by the arm) Go aside hence from the doors a 
 little to that place, I pray you, Sostrata. You must not 
 hereafter have called me by that name. Sop. Why ? I 
 pray you, are you not he whom you always said that you 
 was? Chr. Hist! Sop. Why are you afraid of these 
 doors? Chr. Enclosed here ;I have a termagent 
 wife. Truly I formerly called myself by that name pub- 
 licly, lest ye should by chance imprudent blab me abroad, 
 and moreover my wife should some way come to knowit. 
 
 L 
 
146 TERENTII PHORMIG. 
 
 Sop. By that name indeed we wretched women have 
 never been able to find you out here. Chr. Come now, 
 tell me what business you have with this family, whence 
 you come out ? or where those women are ? Sop. (weeping) 
 Me miserable ! Chr. Hah ! what is it ? Do they live ? 
 Sop. Your daughter is alive. Death took the miserable 
 mother herself in consequence of sickness. Chr. That 
 happened unfortunately. Sop. But I who was an old 
 woman, deserted, and in want, and unknown, married, 
 as I was enabled to do, the virgin to this young |man, who 
 is the master of this house. Chr. (in amazement) to An- 
 tipho? Sop. Ay ! ay ! to him himself. Chr. What? Has 
 he two wives ? Sop. Au ! I beseech you, he has indeed 
 this one alone. Chr. What as to that other girl, who is 
 called a relation ? Sop. For that matter it is this one. 
 Chr. What do you say ? Sop, It was done by agreement, 
 by which means the lover could have her without a por- 
 tion. Chr. Gods and faith ! how often things come to 
 pass unstudied by chance, which you may not dare to 
 hope for ! Arriving here I have found my daughter mar- 
 ried with whom 1 wished, and as I wished. That which 
 we both with utmost effort strove that it might be accom- 
 plished, this her own care alone without our chief atten- 
 tion has performed. Sop. Now see what is necessary to 
 be done. The father of the young man has come, and 
 they say that he bears this matter with a very dissatisfied 
 mind. Chr. There is no danger. But I implore you by 
 gods and men, be cautious against any one's finding out 
 that she is my daughter. Sop. No one shall know it from 
 me. Chr. Follow me; you shall hear the rest within. 
 (Exeunt into Demiphoe's house.) 
 
 END OF THE FOURTH ACT. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE L 
 
 (Enter Demipho and Geta at the back scene, and advances 
 to the front. ) • 
 
 Demipho. With our own fault we bring to pass, that 
 it be expedient to be wrong, while we study too much to 
 
TERENTII PHOIIMIO. 147 
 
 be right and benevolent. You must run so, as not to be 
 beyond the goal, as they say. Was it not enough to re- 
 ceive injury from that man ? Money is also voluntarily 
 offered to him, that there may be wherewithal he may live, 
 until he may commit some other wicked act. Get. (bow* 
 ing) most evidently. Dem. How very foolishly we have 
 carried on this affair towards that man ! Get. Only that 
 it be possible he can be swerved from that intention of 
 marrying her. Dem. Is that also doubtful ? Get. I 
 know not truly, as he is a man, whether or no he may 
 change his mind. Dem. Ah ha ! but may change his 
 mind ? Get. I know not, but if by chance, I say. Dem. 
 I will act in that manner, as my brother judged proper ; 
 that I may bring his wife hither, that she may speak with 
 that girl. You, Geta, go your ways, and tell her before 
 hand that she is about to come to her. (Exit Demipho 
 into Chremes's house.) Get. (in soliloquy) The money is 
 found for Phaedria. There is silence concerning the quar- 
 rel. It is taken care that the girl may not go away hence 
 in presence of us all. What now besides? What will 
 happen? You stick in the same mud, Geta; you will 
 pay for the roast. The calamity which had been present, 
 has gone off for a day. Bufferings increase, unless you 
 look to it. Now 1 will go home from hence, and instruct 
 Phanium, that she may not be afraid of Phormio, or his 
 declaration. (Exit into Demipho's house.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE II. 
 
 {Enter Demipho and Nausistrata from Chremes's 
 house, Demipho gallantly handing her out.) 
 
 Demipho. Proceed as you are accustomed, Nausistrata, 
 bring to pass that she may be reconciled to us ; that with 
 her own good will she may do that, which is to be done. 
 Nau. I will do so. Dem. Also now aid me with your 
 diligent effort, as very lately you assisted me with money. 
 Nau. I wish it done, and truly I am able to do less than 
 is worthy of me, from the fault of my husband. Dem. 
 But what is that ? Nau. Because he slothfully manages 
 my father's possessions, which were well earned, for out 
 of those farms he used to receive at once two talents of 
 silver. (She flirts her fan violently) O how one man ex- 
 cels another ! Dem. Two talents, pray ? Nau* And 
 when things were much cheaper,, yet two talents. Dm. 
 
H8 TERENTII PHORMIQ. 
 
 Indeed ? Nau. How do these things seem to .you ? Dem. 
 Oh, certainly. Nau. I would wish I was born a man, 
 
 (raps her fan upon her hand) I would show them Dem. 
 
 I know it for certain. Nau. By what particular method. 
 Dem. Spare yourself, I beg of you, that you may be 
 able to talk with her ; lest the young woman should tire 
 you out. Nau. I will do as you desire, (she looks towards 
 Demiphds door) but I observe my husband to go out of 
 your house. (Enter Chremes from Demiphds house, and 
 hobbles close to Demipho) Chr. Harkye, Demipho ! Is the 
 money now given to him ? Dem. I took care to do it im- 
 mediately. Chr. I would not wish it were given him. 
 Ah ! (aside) I see my wife there ; almost more than 
 enough was said. Dem. Why would you not wish it, 
 Chremes ? Chr. I have said rightly now. Dem. What 
 have you been doing ? Have you spoke with her, why 
 we introduced this lady to her ? Chr. I have transacted 
 it. Dem. What does she say at length ? Chr. She can- 
 not be carried away. Dem. How can she not ? Chr. be- 
 cause each is dear to each. Dem. What is that to us ? 
 Chr. Of great importance. Besides these things, I have 
 found that she is related to us. Dem. What? are you 
 mad? Chr. It will be found to be thus. I do not speak 
 rashly. Recall your recollection along with me. Dem. 
 Are you well in your senses ? Nau. Au ! I beseech you, 
 take care you do not do wrong to her who is related to 
 you. Dem. She is no relation. Chr. Do not deny it. 
 Her father's name is mentioned different. In this you 
 have made a mistake. Dem. Had she not known her 
 father? Chr. She had known him. Dem. Why hath 
 she said another name ? Chr. Will you never this day 
 give up to me, nor understand me ? Dem. If you tell 
 nothing— Chr. You destroy me. Nau, I wonder what 
 this may be. Dem. Indeed truly I know not. Chr. Do 
 you wish to know ? So may Jupiter preserve me, know, 
 that there is no man nearer a kin to her than I am, and 
 you also. Dem. Gods and faith ! let us go to the young 
 woman herself; I wish that we should all of us either 
 know or unknow this together. Chr. (sighing) Ah ! 
 Dem. What is it .? Chr. That my credit should be so 
 little with you? Dem. Do you wish me to believe this? 
 Are you willing that that matter has been sufficiently en- 
 quired into on my part? Well, well, let it be. What? 
 what is to become of that daughter of our friend ? Chr. 
 All is right.. Dem. Do we therefore dismiss this lady ? 
 
TERENT1I PHORMIO. 14*9 
 
 Chr. Why not ? Dem. May that young woman remain 
 here? Chr. Just so. Dem. [bowing to Nausistrata) there- 
 fore, Nausistrata, you are at liberty to depart. Nau. 
 Thus I really think it more pleasant to you all, that she 
 should remain, than as you had first intended ; for she 
 seemed to me a very genteel young woman, when [ saw 
 her. (Exit Nausistrata into her house) Dem. What is 
 that business ? Chr. ( Looking at the door where Nausis- 
 trata had gone in) hath the door now shut? Dem. Yes r 
 now. Chr. O Jupiter ! The gods favour us ! I have 
 found my daughter married with your son. Dem. Hah ! 
 by what means could that be ? Chr. This place is not 
 sufficiently safe to talk of the matter. Dem. But go yoa 
 within-doors. Chr. Harkye, I wish indeed that our sons 
 may not come to this. (Exeunt Demipho and Chremes 
 into Demiphds house.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Antipho from Chremes's house.) 
 
 Antipho. I am joyful, however my own affairs are si- 
 tuated, that what he wishes for, hath fallen out to my 
 brother. How wise it is, to prepare in the mind desires 
 of that sort, which, when affairs are adverse, you can by 
 a small effort remedy. This man, as soon as he finds the 
 money, disengaged himself from care. I can by no re- 
 medy extricate myself from these troubles ; but if this mat- 
 ter be concealed, I must be in fear, but if it is known 
 abroad, in disgrace. Nor would I now betake myself 
 home, unless there was a hope shown to me of retaining 
 her. But where can I find Geta, that I may ask him what 
 opportunity he may desire me to take of meeting my 
 father. (He stands aside.) 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE IV. 
 
 {Enter Phormio from the back scene 9 and advances to the 
 front. 
 
 Phormio. I have received the money. I have given it 
 to the pimp. I have brought away the woman. I took 
 care that Phaedria should possess her as his own, for she 
 was liberated from slavery. Now one thing also remains 
 to me which is to be done ; that I may have leisure from 
 
150 TERENTII FHORMIO. 
 
 the old men for drinking ; for I will enjoy these some 
 days to come. Ant. {looking round) But Phormio is here. 
 (he goes up to him) What are you saying? Pho. What? 
 Ant. What is Phaedria about to do now ? In what man- 
 ner does he say that he chooses to wear away the abund- 
 ance of his love? Pho. In his turn he is to act your 
 parts. Ant. What parts? Pho. That he may fly from 
 his father. He hath asked that you again should act 
 his parts; that you should plead his cause for him; for he 
 is about to drink at my house. I will say to the old men 
 that I am going to Sanium to traffick there, to buy a 
 maiden slave, whom Geta mentioned not long since; lest, 
 when they see me s not here, they may believe that I am 
 wasting their money. But the door has creaked from 
 your house. Ant. See who is going out? Pho. It is 
 Geta. ( They retire) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Geta hastily from Demipho's house j runs to the 
 front and hurries to and fro, 
 
 Geta, O Fortune ! O chance fortune ! With how 
 great advantages, how suddenly ye have loaded this day 
 with your measure of assistance to my master Antipho I 
 Ant.' What is he saying to himself? Get. And have dis- 
 encumbered us his friends of our fear ! But am I now 
 delaying to myself, who do not cover this shoulder with 
 my cloak, and hurry to meet the man, that he may know 
 these things that have happened to him ? Ant. {behind) 
 Do you understand what he may be saying ? Pho. Do 
 you ? Ant. Nothing of it. Pho. So much the same do 
 I. Get. I will step on to go hence to the pimp ; they are 
 there now. (he crosses over) Ant. Harkye, Geta ! Get. 
 There is for you ! Is it a wonderful or new thing to be 
 called back when you may have begun your route ? Ant. 
 (loudly) Geta ! Get, {going on) You persist, faith ! you 
 shall never conquer me with your spite. Ant. Do not you 
 wait ? Get. Be whipped to you ! Ant. That indeed 
 shall happen to you now ; unless you stop, I flog you. 
 Get. (to himself) It behoves this man to be better ac- 
 quainted with me; he threatens mischief, {he turns about) 
 But is this he whom I am seeking or not? It is he him- 
 self. Pho. (to Antipho) Go to him instantly. Ant. 
 (hastening to Geta) What is it? Get* O, as much as is 
 
TERNTII PHOHMIO. 151 
 
 possible, thou man of all men that live the most bedecked I 
 For without contradiction you alone are beloved by the 
 gods, Antipho. Ant. So I may wish ; but let me wish to 
 be told how I can believe that to be so. Get. Is it 
 enough if I make you buttered over with joy ? Ant. You 
 torture me; Pho. But you, take away your promises 
 hence, and give what news you bring. Get- {seeing Phor- 
 mio who had stood at a distance) Oh ! were you here also, 
 Phormio ? Pho. I was here \ but do you delay ? Get. 
 Come, hear it. As soon as we gave you the money at 
 the Forum, we straightway went home. In the mean time 
 my master sends me to your wife. Ant. On what ac- 
 count ? Get. 1 omit prefacing that, for it is nothing to 
 this affair, Antipho. When I am proceeding into the 
 Gymnaceum, the boy Mida runs up to- me. He catches 
 me behind by the cloak. He stoops down. I look back. 
 I ask him wherefore he may hold me back. He says 
 that it was forbidden to approach my mistress within the 
 house* Sophrona, says he, just now introduced here 
 Chremes the old man's brother ; and that he was now 
 within along with them. When I heard this, I proceeded 
 to approach the doors gently with a cautious step. I went 
 close. I stood on tiptoe ; held my breath ; I put my ear 
 close, {he puts his head close to the side scene) and thus 
 began to give attention, in this manner catching their dis- 
 course. Ant. Well done, Greta ! Get. Here I heard 
 the finest exploit, and so really almost cried out with joy. 
 Pho. What was it? Get. What do you judge? Ant. I 
 know not. Get. But most amazing ! Your uncle is found 
 to be father to Phanium your wife. Ant. Ah ! ha ! what 
 do you say? Get. He cohabited formerly with her 
 mother secretly in Lemnos. Pho. A. dream ! That she 
 should not know her own father? Get. Believe, Phor- 
 mio, that there is some reason. But do you think that 
 I could possibly understand outside the door, all things 
 that they may have transacted among themselves within- 
 doors ? Pho. And really I also have heard that story. 
 Get. Verily also I will lay before you that by which you 
 may the more believe it. In the mean time your uncle 
 goes out of doors from thence hither; Not long after the 
 same goes in again with your father. Each of them says, 
 that he gives you the power of retaining her. Lastly I 
 am sent that I should seek for you, and bring you to 
 them. Ant. (jumping into Geta's arms) Why therefore 
 snatch me away. Do you delay? Get. (holding him in 
 
152 TERENTII PHORMIO, 
 
 his arms) I will do so. (as Geta is carrying him off, Anti- 
 pho salutes Phormio with his hand) Ant. My Phormio, 
 fare you well ! Pho, Farewell Antipho ! {Geta carries off 
 Antipho into Demiphd's house.) Pho. (solus) May heavens 
 favour rae, it has happened well. 1 rejoice that so great 
 good fortune has been given to these unexpectedly. Now 
 is the highest opportunity to me of playing off' the old 
 men, and to take away the care about the money from 
 Phaedria; that he may not be suppliant to any one of his 
 equals ; for this same money, in such away as it is given 
 by them, will be given him grudgingly. I who can make 
 this be done, have found it so in reality. Now a new be- 
 haviour and countenance is to be assumed for me. But I 
 will step aside from hence into this narrow alley nearest. 
 From thence I will show myself to these old men, when 
 they shall have gone out of doors. Where I had pre- 
 tended that I was going to traffic, I go not. (Exit Phor- 
 mio at the side scene.) 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Enter Demipho and Chremes from Demipho's house.) 
 
 Demipho. I feel and return great thanks to the gods, 
 since these things, my brother, have turned out so pros- 
 perously to us. Phormio is now to be met by us as soon 
 as possible before he may squander away our thirty 
 pounds, that we may take them away from him. (Enter 
 Phormio from the side scene, and crosses over in front of 
 the old men towards Demipho' s house) Pho. (aloud) 1 will 
 visit Demipho if he is at home, that what — Dem. (going 
 tip to him) but we were going to you, Phormio. Pho. 
 Concerning the same matter perhaps. Dem. Truly so. 
 Pho* I have believed you. Why were you going to me? 
 Ridiculous ! Do you fear lest I should not do that, which 
 I could have once undertaken ? Harkye, however, ever 
 great this my poverty is, yet still I have taken care of this 
 one thing in truth, that trust may be placed in me. Chr. 
 (to Demipho) is not she then, just as I said, a genteel girl ? 
 Dem. (to Chremes) Very much so. Pho. And so, Demi- 
 pho, I come to you to announce that I am ready; when 
 you will, give me the wife. For I have put behind hand 
 all my affairs, so as was proper, after that I had under- 
 stood that you desired this so much. Dem. But this man 
 has dissuaded me and that I should not give her to you ; 
 
TERENT1J PHORMIO. 153 
 
 for he says what will be the rumour of the people, if you 
 shall have done this? Formerly, when she could honor- 
 ably be given in marriage, then she was not given, and 
 now that she being an orphan should be thrust out, is 
 a base thing. Almost all those same things, which you 
 yourself a short time since had blamed in my presence. 
 Pho. Insolently enough ye play upon me. Dem. How ? 
 Pho. Do you ask ? because truly I shall not be able to 
 marry that other woman ; for with what face shall I re- 
 turn to her, whom I may have despised ? Chr. {prompt- 
 ing Djmipho close at his ear) Say but then I see that An- 
 tipho unwilling lets her go from him. Dem. {to Bhormio) 
 But then I see that my son really unwilling lets the woman 
 go from him. But I pray you, pass across to the Forum, 
 and order that money again to be reimbursed to me, 
 Phormio. Pho. That which I have distributed moreover 
 to those whom I owed it to ? Dem. What therefore will 
 be done? Pho. If you are willing to give me the wife 
 whom you bethrothed to me, I will marry her ; but if it 
 is so that you wish her to stay with you, let the portion 
 remain {he slaps his breeches pocket) here, Demipho. For 
 it is not just that I should be cheated on account of youj 
 when I for the sake of your credit have sent in my rejec- 
 tion of another, who was giving just so much the same of 
 portion. Dem. Go hence and be hanged with that high- 
 mindedness, you vagabond ! Do you even now believe 
 that you are not known, or all your deeds to that effect? 
 Pho. {raising his voice) I am irritated here ! Dem. Would 
 you marry her, if she was given to you ? Pho. Make the 
 trial. Dem. That my son may dwell at your house along 
 with her, this was your intention. Pho. Pry thee, what 
 are you talking of? Dem. But you, give me the money. 
 Pho. Yea verily you, give me the wife. Dem. Walk to 
 justice. Pho. To justice? Really and truly if moreover 
 you persist to be annoying — Dem, What will you do? 
 Pho. I indeed ? Perhaps ye think that I patronise only 
 those women that are unportioned ? I am accustomed to 
 patronise also girls of fortune. Chr. What is that to us? 
 Pho. Nothing. I had known a certain woman here, 
 whose husband had a wife — Chr. Oh ! dear ! Dem* 
 What is it ? Pho. Another wife at Lemnos. - Chr. I am 
 annihilated ! Pho. From whom he received a daughter, 
 and privately educated her. Chr. I am buried alive I 
 Pho. These things therefore {he steps towards Chremeis 
 door) I will tell to hen Chr. (hobbling after him J I en- 
 
154 TERKNTII PHCHMIO; 
 
 treat you, do not do so. Pho. {turning to him) Oh 1 
 were you he ? Dem. How he makes sport of us ! Chr. 
 We dismiss you. Pho. Vagaries ! Ghr. What do you 
 want for yourself? As to the money which you have, we 
 forgive it you. Pho. I hear yon. A curse, why do you 
 therefore thus silly play upon me with your puerile 
 whimsy? I wo'nt, I will; I will, I wo'nt again. Take 
 it. Give it. What hath been said, is unsaid. What 
 was just now ratified, is done away. Chr. {to Demipho) By 
 what means, or whence hath he come to the knowledge 
 of these things? Dem. I know not; but I know for cer- 
 tain, that I told it to no one. Chr. May the gods sa 
 love me, it is like a prodigy. Pho. [aside) I have thrown 
 a stumbling-block in their way. Dem. (to Chremes) 
 Harkye, that this man should carry off this, so great a 
 sum of money from us, so openly deriding us? Truly 
 it is better to die outright. Prepare yourself to be of a 
 manly and ready courage. You see that your crime has 
 been carried abroad; and that you cannot now conceal 
 it from your wife. Now what she herself may be about 
 to hear from others, Chremes, it is more conciliating that 
 we ourselves should discover that to her. Then we shall 
 be able to punish this scoundrel in our own way. Pho. 
 {aside) Hah ! hah ! unless I look to myself, I am stuck 
 in the mud here. These old men are purposing against 
 me with the intention of gladiators. Chr. (to Demipho) 
 But I fear how she can be appeased Dem. Be of good 
 cheer ! I will make you both reconciled again ; relying 
 on this, Chremes, since she has gone out of the way, 
 from whom this daughter was taken up to you. Pho. Do. 
 you act thus with me? Cunningly enough you assail me. 
 Truly, Demipho, you have not excited me to quit this 
 affair of his. (To Chremes) Say you now? When in 
 foreign parts you can have done what pleased you, nor 
 respected this your principal wife, but in an extraordinary 
 manner insulted her, come you now with supplications to 
 wash away your crime? I with these words of mine will 
 make her so incensed against you, that you cannot ex- 
 tinguish the flame, if you melted into water with your 
 tears. Dem. Curse ! Which may all the gods and god- 
 desses put* upon him ! That any man should be fraught 
 with such audacity ! Ought not this ruffian to be carried 
 publicly hence into desert countries ? Chr. I am reduced 
 to that situation, that I am totally at a loss what I shall 
 do with him* Dem. I know though. Let us go to justice* 
 
TEItENTII PHORMIO. 155 
 
 Pho. To justice? (he goes towards Nausistrata* s door) 
 hither, if it pleases you. Bern, (collaring Phormio) Fol- 
 low him up, (Chremes collars Phormio on the other side) 
 hold him fast, while I call out the servants. (Demipho 
 runs off a little way and Phormio struggles to get loose from 
 Chremes) Chr. Why I cannot hold him by myself, run 
 up here. (Demipho runs back, and collars Phormio and 
 both of them are dragging him and he is struggling) Pho. 
 There is an assault against you. Chr. Take the law there- 
 fore. Pho. Another against you Chremes. Dem. Drag 
 him away. Pho. Are you so doing ? Well indeed I 
 must vociferate ! (he roars out) Nausistrata, come forth ! 
 Chr. Shut your mouth, you ! (Phormio pushes Demipho 
 violently away, who staggers and falls down, losing his hat 
 and wig) Dem. See the villain, how strong he is ! (he 
 gets up and again collars Phormio. Pho. (aloud) Nausis- 
 trata, I say ! Chr. (dragging him) Are not you silent ? 
 Dem. (pulling him) If he does not follow, drive your fists 
 into his belly, or punch out his eye.* (Nausistrata hastily 
 comes out of her house fluttering her fan, and stands before 
 the combatants) Pho, it is now that 1 shall well punish 
 you both. ( They let them go. ) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE VII. 
 Nausistrata. Who calls me by name? Dem, Ah ! 
 ha ! Nau. Prithee, my husband, pray what is that ? Pho. 
 (to Chremes, who is shivering with fright) Oh ! ho ! Why 
 are you now stupefied ? Nau. (to her husband) who is 
 this man? (she raps Chremes *s hand with her fan) Do 
 not you answer me? Pho. Do you think he can answer 
 you, who verily knows not where he is ? Chr. (to her) 
 Guard against believing him as to any thing ! Pho. Go, 
 and touch him, if he does not shiver all over, torture me. 
 Chr, (sighing heavily) It is nothing. Nau. What therefore? 
 what is he saying there? Pho. You shall know this very 
 moment. Listen. Chr. Do you persist in believing him ? 
 Nau. Prithee, as to what am I to believe him, who hath 
 said nothing ? Pho. The wretched man is delirious with 
 fright. Nau. It is not indeed without reason that you 
 are so frighted. Chr. (with a shaking voice) Am I 
 frightened ? Pho. Right indeed. Since you are not 
 frightened, and this is nothing that I talk of, tell it your- 
 self. Dem. Villain, may he tell it to you ? Pho. O ho ! 
 you ! you have worked away diligently for your brother. 
 
 * At Westminister Demipho said the words " vel ocu- 
 lum exclude." 
 
156 TEHENTII PHOIUflO. 
 
 Nau. My husband, do you not tell it me? Chr. (in agi- 
 tation But, but, — Nati. (rapping his hands violently with 
 her fan) What butt, butt ? Chr. There is no need of its 
 being said. Pho. (to Chremes) To you indeed there may 
 be none, but there is need of its being known to her. (to 
 Nausistrata) In Lemnos — Chr. Ah ! What doyou say ? 
 Dem. Do you not hold your peace? Pho. Unknown to 
 you — Chr. O me ! alas ! Pho. He married a wife. (Nau- 
 sistrata hurries about fanning herself) Nau. My husband ? 
 May the gods avert it ! Pho. So it was done. Nau. 
 (pacing in great agitation) I am lost a wretched woman. 
 Pho. And now from her had one only daughter, while you 
 are fast asleep. Chr. (in a doleful voice) What can I do ! 
 Nau. O heavens! An unworthy and infamous deed? 
 Pho. This deed was done. Nau. Has any thing this day 
 been done more disgraceful ? These are men, who, it 
 seems to me, when they come to their wives, then become 
 old men. Demipho, I appeal to you ; for it is painful to 
 me to speak with this very husband of mine. Were these 
 his frequent journeys and long delays at Lemnos ? Was 
 this that vileness that diminished my profits ? Dem. I do 
 not deny, Nausistrata, that he is guilty of a crime in this 
 affair. But moreover that is to be forgiven. Pho. Words 
 are made for a dead man. Dem. For neither with neglect 
 of you, nor dislike of you hath he done that. Overtaken 
 with wine, about fifteen years ago, he had to do with that 
 woman. (Nausistrata paces about in a fury) From whom 
 this girl was born, nor afterwards hath he ever touched 
 her. That woman died. The objection that was in this 
 affair hath gone out of consideration. Wherefore I be- 
 seech you, as your other acts are, that you may bear this 
 with equanimity. Nau. W T hy should I bear it with equa- 
 nimity ? (she begins to weep) I, wretched in this affair, 
 am desirous to die this moment. But what can I hope 
 for? Can I think moreover, that he is about to sin the 
 less from age ? Now at that very time he was an old man, 
 if old age makes men modest. (Chremes all this time hang~ 
 ing his head like a culprit) Is my beauty and age more de- 
 sirable at this time, Demipho ? What argument do you 
 offer to me, why I may expect, or hope moreover, that 
 he will not be the same ? (Phormio waves his hat in the 
 air, imitating a crier inviting the people to a funeral, arid 
 cries aloud with a canting voice) Obsequies to Chremes* 
 Ho ! to those, whose convenience it is to go, now is their 
 time ! Thus will I give examples* Come on now, who- 
 
TETIENT1I PHORMIO. 1.57 
 
 ever shall choose it, let him provoke Phormio ! I will 
 make him be sacrificed with such a calamity as this man 
 is. Let him truly be reconciled to her ; there is now suf- 
 ficient punishment for me. She has that, which she may, 
 ever while he lives, din into his ear eternally. Nau. 
 (to Demipho) However I trust to my own merit. Why 
 may I now mention, Demipho, those matters particularly, 
 what sort of wife I may have been towards him ? Dem. 
 I have known all things equally with you. Nau. Does 
 this seem done with my deserving ? Dem. By no means. 
 But since it cannot now become undone by accusing, par- 
 don him. He entreats, confesses, is now clear of harm. 
 What do you wish more ? Pho. [aside) Truly now, before 
 that she pardons, I shall look forwards to myself and 
 Phaedria. Harkye, Nausistrata ! before that you answer 
 him rashly, hear me. Nau. What is it? Pho. I took 
 away thirty pounds from him by tricks. I gave them to 
 your son. He gave them to a pimp for his mistress. 
 Chr. Ah ! ha ! What do you say ? Nau. {to Chremes) 
 Does this seem to you so improper a thing, if your son, a 
 young man, has one mistress, and you had two wives ? 
 That it should shame you not ? With what face will you 
 reprove him } (she raps him in the face with her fan) 
 Answer me this. Dem. He will do as you will wish. 
 Nau. Verily, that you may know my opinion, I neither 
 pardon him, nor promise any thing, nor answer you, be- 
 fore that I shall have seen my son. To his judgment I 
 refer all things. What he shall desire me to do, I will 
 do. Pho. You are a wise woman, Nausistrata. Nau. 
 Are you satisfied ? Pho. Yes truly. I depart hand- 
 somely, and well off, and beyond my expectation. Nau. 
 Say you what is your name ? Pho. My name ? Phormio ; 
 truly a friend to your family, and a particular friend to 
 your Phaedria. Nau. But, Phormio, in truth I will here- 
 after do for you, and speak for you, to the utmost of my 
 ability, and what thing you shall wish for. Pho. You 
 speak kindly. Nau. Indeed it is your desert. Pho. Do 
 you wish this day to do the first things I may rejoice at, 
 Nausistrata, and which your husband's eyes may be an- 
 noyed at ? Nau. I do desire it. Pho. Invite me to sup- 
 per. Nau. Indeed and in truth I do iuvite you. Dem. 
 Let us go hence within-doors. Nau. Let this be done, 
 but where is Phaedria, our judge? Pho. I will make 
 him be present here now immediately. (To the audience) 
 Farewell ye, and clap your hands* 
 
158 
 
 ARGUMENT, OR STORY OF THE 
 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 MENEDEMUS, finding that his son Clinia was in 
 love with Antiphila, had treated him with so great seve- 
 rity, that the young man ran away to the wars in Asia. 
 The father was grieved, and vexed at himself for having 
 treated the young man in such a manner, and punished 
 himself so much, as to undergo hard labour in penitence 
 of his having driven his son away. Clinia returns home 
 from the wars, not to his Father's house, but to Chremes's 
 house, and abides with his fiend Clitipho, Chremes's son, 
 Clitipho is in love with the extravagant harlot Bacchis. 
 Servants are sent, who bring over Bacchis and Antiphila 
 to their lovers at Chremes's house. Bacchis appears 
 there to be Clinia's mistress, Chremes imagining her to 
 be so, and Antiphila is in the character of a maid servant. 
 Clitipho thus keeps secret from his father Chremes, his 
 amour with Bacchis. Syrus, a crafty servant, by tricks 
 and lying obtains ten pounds from Chremes for Clitipho 
 to give to his expensive harlot, Bacchis. A discovery is 
 made that Antiphila, who is attendant on Sostrata, is 
 Chremes's daughter, and sister to Clitipho. Chremes at 
 length finds out that Bacchis is his son Clitipho's mistress. 
 Great anger ensues, and Clitipho is liable to the conse- 
 quences of his father's displeasure; Clinia having been 
 espoused to Antiphila, Chremes is pacified by his son 
 Clitipho's agreeing to take a wife, whom he names to his 
 Parents. 
 
159 
 
 TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 CHARACTERS IN THE HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 Chremes, — an old gentleman. 
 Clitipho — a young man his son. 
 Mpnedemus, — an old gentleman. 
 Clinia, — a young man his son. 
 Syrus, — a crafty servant to Chremes. 
 Dromo, — servant to Menedemus and Clinia. 
 Sostrata, — an elderly woman, wife to Chremes. 
 Bacchis, — a harlot of great profusion, mistress to Clitipho. 
 Phrygia, — one of Bacchis's maid-servants. 
 Antiphila, — beloved by Clinia, found out to be the daugh- 
 ter of Chremes. 
 
 An old nurse, servant to Sostrata. 
 
TERENTII 
 
 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 CENE. — A Street in the suburbs of Athens ; on one side is 
 the house of Menedemus ; on the other Chremes 1 s house 9 
 with their doors opposite, 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Chremes and Mendemus, walking together from 
 the back scene, the latter carrying a couple af harrows. 
 
 Chremes. Although this acquaintance very lately sub- 
 sists between us, arising from that circumstance, that you 
 bought a piece of land here quite close to mine, nor hath 
 there been truly almost any thing further of communica- 
 tion, nevertheless your goodness or your vicinity, which 
 I think to be very near to friendship, causes me to ad- 
 monish you boldly, and familiarly, in respect that you 
 seem to work beyond your time of life, and beyond what 
 your circumstances require you. For O ! the faith of 
 gods and men ! What do you wish to yourself? What 
 do you seek after ? You are sixty years old, or more than 
 that, as I conjecture ; no one in these countries has bet- 
 ter land, nor of higher price; no one has more servants ; 
 therefore as if there may be no one, you yourself perform 
 their duties diligently. I never go out though so early, 
 nor return home though so late in the evening, but I can 
 see you in your farm digging, or ploughing, or lastly 
 bearing something weighty. You remit during no time, 
 nor do you regard yourself. I know for certain, that 
 these things are not a pleasure to you. But in truth it 
 grieveth me how much work may be done here. That 
 
TKRENTIX HEAUTONTIMORUMXNOS 101 
 
 which of your attention you waste in doing work your- 
 self you can bring to more effect, if you were to employ 
 it in making those servants work. Men, Have you so 
 much leisure, Chremes, from your own business, that you 
 can mind things foreign to you, those things in fact which 
 do not belong to you 7 Chr. (putting his hand to his breast) 
 I am a man ; I think nothing of what relates to man, 
 foreign to me. Imagine that I am either advising you as 
 to this, or enquiring. Is it a right thing ? that I may 
 do it. Is it not right? that I may dissuade you. Men, 
 There is an advantage to me in so doing. Act thou, as 
 thou hast need to do. Chr, Is there an advantage to any 
 man to torment himself? Men, There is to me. Chr, 
 If any thing is a matter of labour to you, I should not 
 wish it. But what is that misfortune ? I beg to know 
 why you have deserved so great evil from yourself? Men, 
 (weeping) Alas ! alas ! Chr, Weep not, but make me 
 to know that matter, whatsoever it is. Be not silent. 
 Fear thou not. Trust to me, I say, 1 will assist you either 
 by consoling, or by counsel, or by my worldly means. 
 Men, Are you willing to know this matter? Chr, I wish 
 it indeed for this same reason, urged by which I spoke to 
 you. Men. It shall be told. Chr. Nevertheless in the 
 mean time lay aside those harrows, and labour not. 
 [he tries to take them) Men, (standing back) by no means. 
 Chr. What affair are you practising thus ? Men. Suffer 
 me to carry them, that I may not give myself a cessation 
 of labour. Chr, What will you carry these harrows so 
 heavy ? Men, So is my desert. Chr, Now speak. Men, 
 I have one only son, a very young man. Ah 1 What 
 have I said ? That I have a son ? Verily I had one, 
 Chremes ; whether now I may have one or not, is uncer- 
 tain. Chr, Why is that so ? Men, You shall know. 
 There is a poor old woman here, a new-comer from 
 Corinth. He hegan to love her daughter desperately, so 
 as to reckon her almost as his wife. All these things 
 were without my knowledge. When I found out the af- 
 fair, I began to treat him harshly, and not as was proper 
 for the sick mind of the young man, but with severity, 
 and the generally established mode of Fathers. Daily I 
 used to accuse him, Hah ! said I, do you hope that it 
 is lawful for you to do these things any longer, I your 
 father being alive, that you can reckon your mistress al- 
 most in the place of a wife ? You mistake if you believe 
 that, and know me not, Clinia. I wish you to be called 
 u 
 
162 TEREHTTI HEAUtONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 my son, only insomuch as while you shall do what is 
 worthy of you. But if you do not that, I shall have found 
 out what may be worthy that I should do against you. 
 That matter happens thus from no other cause except from 
 too much idleness. I at that time of life did not give my 
 attention to love, but went away hence into Asia through 
 poverty, and there found at the same time riches, and glory 
 of war by bearing arms. At last the affair came to that 
 pass, the young man by hearing the same things often and 
 harshly, was subdued. He thought that I both by my age 
 and benevolence knew more, and provided for his good 
 more than he himself did. He went to the king into Asia 
 to fight there, Cremes. Chr. What are you saying? Men, 
 He went away unknown to me. He is absent three months. 
 Chr, Both of you are to be found fault with; although 
 however that undertaking is the sign of a mind capable of 
 shame, and not inactive. Men, When I found it out from 
 those who were in his secrets, I return home sorrowful, 
 and with a mind almost deranged, and unsettled through 
 grief. I sit down ; my servants come up ; they take off 
 my socks. I observe others to hurry, and lay down the 
 couches, and to get ready the supper. Every one for his 
 own part diligently was doing that by which they might 
 assuage my misery. When I am beholding these things, 
 I began to think to myself, hah ! are so many solicitous 
 for the sake of me alone, that they may satisfy me, an indi- 
 vidual only? May so many handmaids clothe one? May 
 I alone cause such expenses at home ? But my only son, 
 whom it became to use these things equally, or even more 
 amply, because that age is more fitted to use these things, 
 that young man I have cast out hence wretched by my ill 
 usage. I can think myself indeed worthy of any calamity, 
 if I can do that. For as long as ever he shall lead that 
 destitute life, wanting his native country on account of my 
 ill-usage, during that interval will I always afford to him 
 punishment of myself, labouring, searching, penurious, 
 serving him. So I practise entirely. I leave nothing in 
 my house, neither vessel nor clothes. I scraped all things 
 together. Handmaids, slaves, except those who by doing 
 country business might work out their own support, all of 
 them I brought out to market, and sold. I advertised my 
 house immediately for a rent. I gathered together about 
 fifteen talents; bought this piece of land, and here I work 
 myself. I determined that by such efforts, Chremes, I 
 should do less injury to my son, as long as I may be mi- 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORVMENOS. 16$ 
 
 serable, and that it is not right for me to enjoy pleasure 
 here, until the time when he shall have returned here safe, 
 a sharer with me. Chr. I think you to be of a mild dispo- 
 sition towards children, and him dutiful, and complying, 
 if any one would treat him rightly or usefully. But neither 
 you had known him sufficiently, nor he you. Whereever 
 this happens, there there is not a proper mode of life. You 
 never shewed to him how much you could value him, nor 
 dared he to trust to you his father those things which it is 
 right to trust. Which thing if it could have been done, 
 these things would never have happened to you. Men, So 
 the matter is, I confess ; the fault is greatest from me. Chr, 
 But, Menedemus, moreover I hope for the best, and trust 
 that he will be present here with you safe and sound imme- 
 diately. Mem. I wish that the gods shall have caused it 
 so. Chr. They will cause it Now, if it is convenient, 
 these are the Dionysian festivals, and I wish that you may 
 be with me to-day. Men. I cannot. Chr. Why not? I 
 beg of you, spare yourself at length, in a small degree. 
 Your absent son wishes you to do this same. Men. It does 
 not suit me, that I who can have driven him to labour, 
 should now avoid it myself. Chr. Is your opinion so? 
 Men. It is so. Chr. Farewell. Men. And you also. [Exit 
 Menedemus into his house). Chr. (weeping) He has brought 
 tears from me, and I have pity of him. But now, as it is 
 the proper time of day, it behoves me to give notice to this 
 neighbour Phanias to come to supper. I will go, and visit 
 him, if he is at home. (Chremes exit at the side scene, and 
 presently returns.) There was no need of any adviser; 
 they say that he is already at my house at home close at 
 hand. I myself am delaying the guests. I will therefore 
 go hence within doors. (Going towards his door, he steps 
 back.) But why have my doors made a creaking from the 
 inside ? Who is going out ? I will step aside here. 
 
 (Chremes goes aside.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Cmtipho from Chremes house- He turns about 
 the door being still Open, and speaks to Clin i a within, 
 
 Clit. There is nothing as yet that you may fear, Clinia. 
 They are by no means even tardy ; and I know that she 
 will be will be with you here to-day, together with the 
 messenger. Therefore you may set aside that unfounded 
 
164 TERENTH HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 uneasiness which torments you. Chr. (aside) With whom 
 is my son talking? (Clitipho turns about) My father is 
 here whom I wished to see ; I will go up to him. (Clitipho 
 and Cremes advance) My father, you come here oppor- 
 tunely. Chr. What is it ? Clit. Have you known this 
 neighbour Menedemus ? Chr. Pretty well. Clit. Do you 
 know that he has a son ? Chr. I have heard that his son 
 is in Asia. Clit. He is not, father. He is at our house. 
 Chr. What do you say ? Clit. I brought him away at his 
 arrival, going out of the ship, straightway to supper here. 
 For I had always a great intimacy with him ever since our 
 boyhood. Chr. You inform me of a great satisfaction. 
 How I would wish Menedemus to be invited, and that he 
 might be with us to-day more particularly, that I might the 
 first give him this happiness at my own house, when he is 
 not expecting it ; and precisely now is the time. Clit. Be- 
 ware how you may do that. There is no need, father. Chr. 
 For what reason ? Clit. Because in truth it is uncertain 
 ever, what he may do with himself. He hath just now 
 arrived. He fears all things; the anger of his father and 
 the inclination of his mistress, how it may be towards him. 
 He loves her even to wretchedness, and on account of her 
 this trouble and emigration hath happened. Chr. I know 
 it. Clit. He hath now sent a servant to her into the city, 
 and I have sent our Syrus along with him. Chr. What 
 does he tell you ? Clit. What does he tell ? that he is 
 miserable. Chr. Miserable? whom is one to suppose to be 
 less so ? What remains but that he may have those things 
 which in a man are indeed called advantages ? Parents, his 
 country in safety, friends, kindred, relations, riches? And 
 these things are to that intent so, as is the disposition of 
 him who possesses them. Whoso knows how to use them, 
 to him they are advantages. To that man who does not 
 use them properly, they are evils. Clit. Really that old 
 man was severe always; and now I fear nothing more, 
 than lest the over-enraged father will have done something 
 against that son. Chr. Will he have done any thing? 
 (aside) But I will restrain myself; for it is useful to him 
 that this young man should be in fear. Clit. What are 
 you saying with yourself? Chr. I will tell you. However 
 the matter was, still it behoved him to remain. Perhaps 
 his father was somewhat more unreasonable on account of 
 his wild desires ; still he should bear it. For whom should 
 he bear with, if he could not bear with his own parent? 
 Was it proper that this young man should live in the way 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMOKUMENOS. 165 
 
 prescribed by him t or that he should live according to the 
 mode of this youngster ? And as to his pretending that he 
 is severe, that is not the case. For the severities of parents 
 generally are of one sort, with which a man for a while is 
 to be borne with. Parents are unwilling that they often 
 should follow harlots. Do not wish them to attend convi- 
 vial meetings often. Supply their expences sparingly. And 
 still all these things tend to virtue. But when once the 
 mind of a young man hath bound itself down with a bad 
 inclination, it is necessary, Clitipho, for a father to follow 
 counsels suited to this. It is a clever thing to make the 
 danger exemplified from others, of use to yourself. Clit* 
 I believe so. Chr. I will go in from hence within-doors, 
 that I may see what supper we can have. As it is the time 
 of the day for this, take care thou that you go not any 
 where farther off from hence. (Exit Chremes into his 
 house.) 
 
 ACT I. SCENE III. 
 
 Clitipho solus. 
 
 Clit. What unjust judges are fathers towards all young 
 men ! who think it is proper that we should become from 
 boys at once old men, and that we should not be joined to 
 those things which grown up youth brings with it. They 
 regulate the young mind according to the desire which 
 they have at this time, and not what they formerly had. If 
 ever I shall have a son, he shall really experience me a 
 complying father. For opportunity shall be given both of 
 my knowing and pardoning a fault. Not as my father 
 does, who shews his own opinion to me through another 
 man. Perish me ! but when he drinks more than a lifctie, 
 what fine deeds of his he tells me ! Now he says, make thou 
 the danger exemplified from others, of use to yourself. 
 How crafty he is ! Really he does not know to what a deaf 
 fellow as me he may now tell his tale. The words of my 
 mistress now operate on me more, when she says, give me 
 that, and bring me this. To whom I can answer only as 
 to any thing, I have nothing. Nor is any one more wretched 
 than I am. For this Clinia, although he also is in anxiety 
 of his own affairs, nevertheless has a girl well and modestly 
 brought up, ignorant of the trade of a harlot. My mistress 
 is overbearing, bold, grand, expensive, and high-minded. 
 Then, as to what I may give to her, it is rightly to be 
 
166 TERENTII HEAUTONTlMoRUMENOS. 
 
 done, for the truth is to say, that I have nothing. I have 
 not found out this calamity before now. Nor even yet 
 does my father know the affair. {Exit Clitipho into 
 Chr ernes' s house.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 {Enter Clinia from Ch remes's house. 
 
 Clin. If the affairs of my love were prosperous to me, I 
 know they would have come here long ago, but I fear lest 
 the woman may have been corrupted here while I was 
 absent. Many opinions concur, which can torment my 
 mind; opportunity, situation, her age, a bad mother 
 under whose rule she is, to whom nothing but lucre was 
 agreeable. 
 
 ( Enter Clitipho from Chremks's house.) 
 
 Ctit. {calling out) Clinia ! Clin. Alas ! wretched me \ 
 Clit. Are you taking care even, lest by chance some one 
 going out hence from your father may see you ? Clin. I 
 will do so. But truly my mind presages I know not what 
 of misfortune. Clit. Do you persist to determine that, 
 before you know what truth may be in it? Clin. If there 
 were no mishap, they would have been here now. Clit. 
 They will be here this moment. Clin. At what time will 
 that be? Clit. Think you not that they are some little 
 way off yet from hence? And you have known the ways of 
 women; while they are forming a plan, and while they 
 are endeavouring to execute it, a whole year is passing. 
 Clin. O Clitipho, I am in terror. Clit. Recover yourself ; 
 behold Dromo together with Syrus ; they are with you 
 here. [Clinia and Clitipho stand aside.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE II. 
 
 {Enter from the back Scene Syrus and Dromo, and, advance 
 
 together.) 
 
 Syr. Do you say so ? Dro. It is so. Syr. But now in 
 the mean time, while we are chopping conversation, those 
 women have been left behind. Clit. (behind to Clinia) 
 Your mistress is at hand, do you hear, Clinia? Clin, 
 (behind to Clitipho) I truly hear it now at last, and see it, 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 167 
 
 and am stout in health, Clitipho, Dro. (to Syrus) It is 
 not wonderful they were left behind, they are so impeded. 
 They bring a whole flock of servant maids with them. 
 Clin. I am undone ! from whence has she maid servants ? 
 Clit. Do you ask me that ? Syr. (to Dromo) It was not 
 right that they were left behind. What a quantity of 
 things they carry ! Clin. Alas me ! Syr. Gold and fine 
 clothes. And it grows late, and they have not known the 
 way. It has been done by us foolishly. In the mean time 
 go you away, Dromo, to meet them. Hasten. Why do 
 you stand there ? (Exit Dromo at the back scene.) Clin. 
 Woe to me miserable ! from how great a hope I have 
 fallen ! Clit. Why is that? what affair makes you uneasy 
 now ? Clin. Do you ask what it may be? do you see these 
 things? maid-servants, gold, clothes, that she should have» 
 whom I left here with one little maid-servant ! From 
 whence do you think that these are? Clit. Ah ! now at 
 length I understand. Syr. (in front) Good gods ! what a 
 crowd there is ! our house will scarcely contain them, I 
 know. What will they eat? what will they drink? What 
 will be more wretched than our old man? (looking towards 
 the back scene) But I see them; behold those whom I was 
 wishing to see. Clin, (seeing them and clapping his hands 
 together) O Jupiter ! where is confidence to be placed ? 
 While I am away from my native country wandering and 
 mad on account of thee, Antiphila, you in the mean time 
 enriched yourself at home, and forsook me In these mis- 
 fortunes; you, on account of whom I am in the greatest 
 disgrace, and disobedient to my father; of whom now it 
 shameth and regretteth me, that he, who used to proclaim 
 to me the ways of these women, admonished me in vain ; 
 and that he was not able ever to drive me from her. Which 
 thing nevertheless I will now myself do ; at that time, when 
 it could have been useful to me, I was unwilling. No one 
 can be more wretched than I am. Syr. (to Clitipho) This 
 man is mistaken concerning my words surely, which I 
 have spoken here. Clinia, you have a notion of this love 
 of yours different from what it is. For both her manner 
 of living is the same, and her inclination towards you is 
 the same as it was, as far as we have conjectured from the 
 reality itself. Clin. What is that, I beseech you ? for of 
 all affairs to me now, there is nothing which I would have 
 rather, than that I should wrongfully suspect this matter. 
 Syr* This is the first thing, in order that you may not be 
 ignorant of any of her affairs. The old woman who was 
 
168 TfcJlINTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS, 
 
 spoke of hitherto to be her mother, was not her mother. 
 She hath died. By chance 1 heard it, while in the journey 
 she herself is telling it to the other female. Clit. Who is 
 the other female? Syr. Wait. Let me tell this first which 
 I began to tell, Clitipho. Afterwards I will come to that. 
 Clin, Hasten. Syr. Now first of all, when we come to 
 the house, Dromo knocks at the door. A certain old 
 woman comes forth. W T hen she opened the door, he im- 
 mediately rushed inside. I follow him. The old woman 
 bolts the doors, and returns to her wool-spinning. Here, 
 or no where it could be known, Clinia, in what manner 
 she may have carried on her way of life, while you were 
 absent, since we came upon the woman unawares. For 
 that affair gave them a power of estimating the settled 
 habit of her daily life; which shows most plainly how the 
 disposition of every one may be. We found the girl herself 
 diligently weaving a web of cloth, decently attired with a 
 mourning suit, on account of that old woman, I suppose, 
 who had died, dressed at that time without gold, so as 
 those who are dressed for their own satisfaction ; bedizened 
 with no womanish frippery. Her hair was dishevelled, 
 long-flowing, thrown back carelessly round her head. All 
 quiet! Clin. My Syrus, I beseech you, throw me not in 
 vain into joy. Syr. The old woman was spinning the yarn. 
 There was one servant-girl besides. She was weaving 
 along with them, covered with rags, neglected, filthy with 
 dirt. Clit. If these things are true, Clinia, as I believe 
 they are, who is more fortunate than you? Do you notice 
 this woman whom he reports to be defiled with dirt, and 
 filthy ? this is even a great sign, that the mistress is disa- 
 greeable abroad, when the messengers are so neglected. For 
 it is a rule to those same men who aim at an approach to 
 the mistresses, to reward the maid -servants first. Clin, 
 (to Syrus) Go on 1 beseech you, and take care that you 
 study not to enter into false favour with me. What does 
 she say when you name me? Syr. When we say to her 
 that you have returned, and that you request that she 
 would come to you, the woman stops the work of weaving 
 immediately, and fills her whole countenance with tears, 
 so that you might easily know that it happened from love 
 of you. * Clin. May the gods so love me, I know not where 
 I may be for joy ; I have been so alarmed. Clit. But I 
 knew that it was nothing, Clinia. Go on now in its turn, 
 Syrus, say who is that other female. Syr. We bring with 
 us your Bacchis. Clk. Hah ! what? Bacchis? Hillo, you 
 
TERKNTI1 HEAUT0NT1MORUMEN0S. 169 
 
 rascal, where are you bringiug her? Syr. Where should 
 I bring her ? To our house surely. Clit. To my father ? 
 Syr. To himself. Clit, O the impudent audacity of the 
 man ! Syr. Harkye you, a great and memorable exploit 
 is not done without peril. Clit. Look to this. You are 
 going, you villain, to gain praise for yourself, in my life 
 that is at stake. When, if any the least thing only shall 
 have failed you, I shall have fallen to destruction. What 
 can you do about that ? Syr. But really. Clit. What is 
 that word really? Syr. If you may suffer me, I will tell 
 you. Clin. Suffer him. Clit. I do not permit him. Syr. 
 
 This affair is in such a way now, as if when Clit. 
 
 A curse, what windabout words is he beginning to relate, 
 to me ? Clin. Syrus, he says what is true, leave off fine 
 words, and return to the matter. Syr. Really and truly 
 I cannot keep back any thing, and you are, Clitipho, in 
 many ways affronting, and you cannot be borne. Clin. 
 Certainly this thing must be heard ; be silent, Clitipho. 
 Syr. [to Clitipho) You wish to love the woman, you wish 
 to possess her, you wish that money should be got, which 
 you may give to her, but you wish not that any danger 
 should be yours in possessing her ; and you are wise in this 
 without folly, if in fact that is wisdom, your wishing the 
 the thing to happen, which cannot happen. Either these 
 dangers are to be incurred along with those wishes, or 
 those wishes are to be given up along with these. Now 
 see which of these two conditions you may prefer. How- 
 ever, as to this scheme which I have undertaken, I know 
 it to be proper and safe; for there is full liberty that your 
 mistress may be with you at your father's house without 
 fear. Then the money, which you promised her, I will 
 find in this same way; which that I might make out for 
 you, you had already deafened my ears with entreating me. 
 What else do you wish for yourself? Clit. If indeed this 
 is done. Syr. If indeed? You shall know it by experi- 
 encing it, Clit. Well, well, tell me as to that plan of 
 yours, what it is. Syr. We will pretend that your mistress 
 is his. {points to Clinia) Clit. Very fine. Tell me what 
 shall he do with his own girl ? Will she also be called his, 
 as if this one is not disgrace enough ? Syr. Verily she 
 shall be brought to your mother. Clit. Why in that way? 
 Syr. It is a long matter, Clitipho, if I were to tell you on 
 what account I may do that ; the reason is proper. Clit. 
 Follies ! I see nothing sufficiently well-founded, why it 
 may be expedient to me to incur this fear. Syr. Wait* I 
 
170 TERSNTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 have something else, if you fear that, which you may both 
 of you confess to be without peril. Clit. I entreat you, 
 find something of this sort. Syr. Most certainly. I will 
 go hence to meet them; I will tell them, that they may 
 return home. Clit. Hah ! what have you said ? Syr. I 
 shall have caused now all fear to be taken away from you ; 
 so that you may sleep at your leisure on either ear. Clit. 
 What am I to do now ? Clin. You to do ? that which is 
 good for you. Clit. Syrus, tell me only the truth. Syr. 
 Mind your business now ; this day, when late and in vain, 
 you will wish for the thing. Clin. She is given to you, 
 and enjoy your mistress, while the opportunity is ; for you 
 cannot know, whether you may have the power hereafter, 
 or never. [Syrus walks away.) Clit. Syrus, I say. Syr. Go 
 on still, yet I am fixed as to that. Clit. {to Clinia) That 
 is really true. (Syrus having got to the back scene, Clitipho 
 calls aloud) Syrus, Syrus, I say ; Hillo, Hillo, Syrus: 
 Syr. (to himself ) He has grown hot. (He turns about) What 
 do you wish ? Clit. Come back, come back. Syr. (coming 
 up to him) I am here; say what is it? Now also you will 
 deny that this my coming pleases you. Clit. Verily Syrus, 
 I commit to you myself, and my love, and reputation. 
 You are the judge. Only see that you be not liable to 
 accusation as to any thing. Syr. It is ridiculous that you 
 admonish me as to that, Clitipho ; as if in that respect my 
 own business be carried on of less consequence than your 
 own. Here if by chance any thing of what is adverse 
 shall have happened to us, words will be aimed against 
 you, floggings against me. Wherefore this affair is by no 
 means a matter of neglect to me. But now prevail upon 
 him (he points to Clinia) that he may pretend she is his 
 mistress. Clin. Assuredly I say that I will do it. The 
 affair has now come into that situation, that it must be- 
 necessary to do so. Clit. Deservedly I love you, Clinia. 
 Clin. But let not that woman fail as to any thing. Syr. 
 She is well instructed. Clit. But I wonder at this, how 
 you can be able so easily to persuade her, who is used to 
 spurn at every one ! Syr. I came to her in a proper time, 
 which is the chief thing of all transactions. For I severely- 
 affronted a certain military man there, entreating a night 
 of her. She managed the man with artifice, that she 
 might stir up his eager mind with the want of her, and 
 that she might be the same, and as agreeable as possible 
 with you. But harkye thou ; see that .you rush not im- 
 prudent as to any thing. You have known your father* 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 171 
 
 how sharp-sighted he can be to these matters; but I have 
 known you, how imbecile you can generally be. Avoid 
 words ironical, your neck turned away, groans, spittings, 
 coughings, and laughter. Git, You shall approve of me. 
 Syr. Be careful. Clit. You shall wonder at me. Syr. 
 {looking towards the back scene) But how soon these women 
 have got here ! Clit. f looking a bout J Where are they ? 
 (he is going to them, and is held by Syrus) Why do you 
 keep me back ? Syr. Already she is not yours. Clit. I 
 know it, in my father's house ; but now in the mean time. 
 Syr. Not more so now. Clit. Suffer me. Syr. I will not 
 suffer you, I say. Clit. 1 beseech you for a little while. 
 Syr. I forbid it. Clin. Only to salute her. Syr. Go away, 
 if you can be wise. Clit. I am going. What as to him ? 
 Syr. He shall stay. Clit. O fortunate man ! Syr. Walk 
 away. 
 
 (Exit Clitipho into Cremes's house.) 
 (jClinia and Syrns stand aside) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter from the back scene Bacchis and Antiphila, the 
 former splendidly dressed, the latter -plain and genteel. 
 They are followed by a dozen o/'Bacchis's maid-servants, 
 carrying handsome boxes and gilt caskets, and parcels of 
 clothes, velvets, <$>c. embroidered with gold, pearl necklaces, 
 earrings, and other fine ornaments. 
 
 Bacchis. Indeed, my Antiphilia, I approve of you, and 
 think you fortunate, when you have endeavoured to that 
 effect, that your morals should be similar to that beauty 
 you possess ; and so, may the gods love me, I do not 
 wonder, if every one desires to have you to themselves. 
 For your manner of speaking was a proof to me, what 
 sort of a good disposition you must have. And when I 
 myself now consider with myself in my mind, the life you 
 lead, and so the life of all such as you, who keep away 
 the people from them, it is not wonderful that ye all 
 should be of that sort of good disposition, and that we are 
 not so. For it is expedient to you all to be good women; 
 those with whom we have to do, do not permit us to be so. 
 For as much as our lovers excited by our beauty alone, 
 follow us; when this is diminished, they carry their incli- 
 nation elsewhere. In the mean time, unless something is 
 looked forward to by us, we live forsaken. When once it 
 
1( 72 TERKNTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 has been determined by those of your sort to pass your 
 life with one man your husband, whose mode of living is 
 most like your own, these men attach themselves to you 
 severally; you each of you are truly bound down by each, 
 with this good advantage, that no calamity can ever put 
 an end to your love. Ant. I know not as to other women; 
 I know indeed that I have always diligently laboured, that 
 I might gain my own happiness from his happiness. Clin, 
 {behind) Ah ! my Antiphila, for that reason you alone 
 now make me a re-visitant to my native country. For, 
 while I am distant away from you, all my labours which I 
 took upon me were light, except that there was the want of 
 you. Syr. {behind to CUnia) I do believe it. Clin. Syrus, 
 I scarce restrain myself from her. Oh ! that it should not 
 be be lawful, as to wretched me, to follow my inclination 
 in this my own way. Syr. Verily, as I have seen your 
 father to be disposed, he will for a long time give you 
 punishment. Bac. (turning round) Who is this young 
 man who is steadfastly looking at us ? Ant. [turns round* 
 starts, and runs to Bacchis) Ah ! hold me, hold me, I 
 beseech you. (She leans on her) Bac. My love, what 
 ails you ? Ant. I am lost. (Faints in her arms) Bac. I 
 am lost also wretched. (Antiphila recovers) Why are you 
 astonished, my Antiphila ? Ant. (looking towards Clinia) 
 Do I see Clinia or not ? Bac. Whom do you see ? Clin, 
 (coming up to her) Health to you, my life and love ! Ant. 
 O my long-looked-for Clinia, health be to you ! Clin. 
 How do you enjoy your health ? Ant. I rejoice that you 
 have arrived safe. Clin, {taking her hand) Do I hold you, 
 my Antiphila, so greatly wished for within my soul ? -Syr. 
 Go ye in-doors all, for the old man is a long time expecting 
 you. (Syrus brings up Clinia to Bacchis, and Clinia leads 
 her into Chremes's house. Antiphila, and the rest follow 
 in. Exeunt omnes.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Chremes from his house.) 
 
 Chremes. % This light now brightens up. I am delaying 
 to knock at the door of my neighbour, that he may know 
 for the first time from me that his son hath returned ? 
 Although I understand that the young man is unwilling 
 
 * Luciscit hoc lumen tarn* 
 
TERENTII HEAUT0NTIM0RUMEN03. 11% 
 
 that this should be. But when I can see that this wretched 
 man is so tormented by his departure, can I conceal the 
 joy so unhoped for, when there can be no danger to the 
 other from the discovery? I will not do it; for, as I shall 
 be able, I will assist the old man. In such manner as I 
 see my son serve his friend and equal, and to be his com- 
 panion in busy affairs, it is proper that we old men should 
 also oblige old men. (He stands near his own door in 
 reverie.) 
 
 (Enter Menedemus from his house.) 
 
 Mem. In truth I am either born with a remarkable dis- 
 position to miseries, or that is false which I hear com- 
 monly to be said, that time takes away grief from men. 
 For to me indeed my grief concerning my son every day 
 encreases the more, and the longer he is absent, by so 
 much the more I wish for him, the more I desire him 
 present. Chr. [looking across) But I see that he has gone 
 out of doors. I will go and speak to him. (He crosses over) 
 Menedemus, health be to you ! I bring tidings to you, of 
 which you are to wish that you principally become partaker. 
 Men, Whether have you heard, Chremes, any thing con- 
 cerning my son ? Chr% He is well, and is alive. Men, 
 Where is he, I pray you ? Chr, With me at home- Men. 
 (stands amazed) My son ? Chr. It is so. Men. Has he 
 come? Chr. Certainly. Men. Has my Clinia arrived? 
 Chr, I have said it. Men. {walking across) Let us go ; 
 conduct me to him, I beseech you. Chr. (stopping him) 
 He is not willing that you may know yet that he has 
 returned, and he avoids the sight of you on account of his 
 misdemeanour. Then he fears this, Jest that old severity 
 of yours may have been encreased still more. Men. Have 
 you not told him how I would be? Chr. I have not told 
 him. Men. Wherefore, Chremes? Chr. Because as to 
 that you counsel very badly towards yourself and toward* 
 him, if you shall have shewn yourself to be of so lenient 
 and abject a disposition. Men. I am not able to restrain 
 myself. Enough, already enough have I been a hard 
 father. Chr. Ah ! Menedemus, you are too vehement to 
 each extreme, either with too much bounty, or too much 
 sparing of kindness. You will fall into the same deception 
 both from the one thing and the other. First of all for- 
 merly, rather than you would suffer your son to join him- 
 self to a woman, who at that time wai contented with a 
 
174 l^RENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 very little, and to whom all things were agreeable, you 
 frightened him away from hence. She afterwards com- 
 pelled by these harsh doings, began to seek her livelihood 
 from numbers of people. Now, when she cannot be had 
 without much loss of expence, you are desirous to give any 
 thing whatever. For, that you may know how finely pre- 
 pared she may be now for your ruin, in the first place she 
 has brought with her at this time more than ten maid- 
 servants, loaded with clothes and gold- If heV lover may 
 be a Minister of State, he can never be able to support 
 her expences. Much less may you be able. Men. {coldly) 
 Is she within ? Chr. Do you ask if she be ? I have felt it; 
 for I have given one supper to her and her companions. 
 But if a supper were to be given again, it must be all over 
 with me. For that I may omit other things, what a 
 quantity of wine hath she consumed to me only in tasting 
 and spitting out? saying, this wine is so, so; this wine, 
 father, is rough; I beseech you, provide some milder; I 
 opened all my casks, all my vessels; I have had all my 
 servants busy. And this is only one night. What do you 
 think is to happen with respect to you, whom they will 
 continually devour up ? So shall the gods love me, Mene- 
 demus, how it stirred up compassion in me of your for- 
 tunes ! Men. Let her do what pleases her. Let her take, 
 consume, and waste. I am determined to bear it, as long 
 as I may only have him with me. Chr. If you are deter- 
 mined so to do, I judge that particular thing to be of very 
 great consequence that he may perceive that you in ignor- 
 ance grant it to him. Men. What shall I do ? Chr. Any 
 thing rather than what you think to do. That you may 
 give money through any one else, and suffer yourself to 
 be cheated with tricks through a servant. Although, I 
 had a sly notion as to that also, that they are thereabouts, 
 and are planning that secretly among them. Syrus whispers 
 with that son of yours ; the young men hold counsels 
 together ; and in this way it is better for you to lose a 
 talent, than in the other way a pound. Money is not now 
 in consideration, but that thing, in what way we may give 
 it to the young man with the smallest danger. For if once 
 he shall have understood your inclination, that you are 
 about to surrender your life before, and all your money 
 before, you can send away your son from you, heyday ! 
 how great an opening you will have laid bare to wicked- 
 ness ! But to yourself it will be moreover, that it may be 
 unpleasant to live. For we are all worse by unbounded 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 175 
 
 liberty. He will wish for every thing, whatsoever shall 
 have come into his mind. Nor will he think about that 
 which he will crave, whether it be bad or good. You will 
 not be able to bear that your property falls to ruin, and 
 himself also. Suppose you shall have refused to give 
 something ; he will have recourse to that at once, by 
 which he will feel that he prevails most with you. At once 
 he will threaten that he is about to depart from you. Men. 
 You seem to speak the truth, and in such a way as the 
 thing really is. Chr. I truly have not known sleep in my 
 eyes this night, while I am searching for that, by which I 
 might restore your son to you. Men. Give me your hand ; 
 (he shakes hands with him) I entreat you that you may do 
 the same thing still, Cremes. Chr. I am ready. Mem % 
 Do you know what now I wish you to do ? Chr. Say it. 
 Mem. As to that which you perceived them begin to cheat 
 me in, that they may hasten to do it. I am eager to give 
 him what he wishes for. I am desirous to see himself 
 this moment. Chr. I will give my endeavour. Syrus 
 must be taken to me, and exhorted, (he looks at the door) 
 There is going out from my house I know not who. Step 
 aside here to your house, that they may not perceive us 
 conferring between ourselves. This little business now 
 impedes me, Simus and Crito our neighbours here are 
 disputing about their boundaries. They have chosen me 
 an umpire. I will go and say to them, that, as I had told 
 them I would give attendance, I cannot give it them to- 
 day. I will be here immediately. Mem. So I beg of you. 
 {Exit Chremes at the side scene) Gods and faith ! that the 
 nature of all men should be so put together, that they can 
 see and judge of other people's affairs better than their 
 own ! Whether does it happen from that cause, that in 
 our own business we are prevented either by too much joy, 
 or by grief of mind? now how much wiser is this man for 
 me, than I myself am for myself! (Enter Chremes from 
 the side scene where he went oat). Chr. I have disengaged 
 myself, that having leisure I might give attendance upon 
 you. (Exit Menedtmus into his house). 
 
 (Chremes goes back.) 
 
176 TERfiNTIl HKAUTONTIMQRUMEXOS. 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Syrus from Chremes's house.) 
 
 Syr. This way and that way are things carried round 
 about. Nevertheless the money must be found, and a 
 cheating trick is to be put upon the old man. Chr. [behind) 
 Hath it escaped me that these men were contriving that ? 
 See now, that servant of Clinia is somewhat lazy, therefore 
 to this my servant the province of cheating is committed. 
 Syr. {turning about) Who is speaking here ? (aside) I am 
 undone! has he heard these words ? Chr. {calling) Syrus. 
 Syr. (coining up) Well, Sir. Chr. What have you done 
 as to him ? Syr. Rightly indeed. But I wonder at you, 
 Chremes, being here so early, who must have drunk so 
 much yesterday. Chr. Nothing too much. Syr. Nothing 
 do you say ? Truly the old age of the eagle, as is used to 
 be said, seemed to be in you. Chr. Heyday ! Syr. This 
 harlot is an agreeable and facetious woman. Chr* She 
 seemed to me truly to be that same thing. Syr. Also really 
 and truly with bright beauty. Chr* Tolerably so. Syr. 
 She is thus not as formerly, but as even now, still really 
 handsome ; and I by no means wonder, if Clinia despe- 
 rately pines after her. But he has a father, a certain 
 greedy, miserable and dry hunks, this neighbour of ours^ 
 Have you known him ? But as if that father may not 
 abound in riches, his son flies away in poverty. Do you 
 know that it happened as I say ? Chr. Why may I not 
 know it? O! the man, worthy of a prison ! Syr. Whom? 
 Chr. 1 speak of that servant of the young man. Syr. {aside) 
 I was sadly frightened for you, Syrus. Chr. (continuing) 
 Who suffered that to happen. Syr. What could he do * 
 Chr. Do you ask? He should find out something, he 
 should feign some tricks, whence the young man might 
 have what he could give to his mistress, and thus might 
 preserve this cross old man against his will. Syr. You are 
 prating idly now. Chr. These things ought to have been 
 done by him, Syrus- Syr. Why now, I beg of you, do 
 you praise those who cheat their masters ? Chr. I truly 
 praise them when they do it in the proper place. Syr. 
 Rightly indeed. Chr. Forasmuch as that is often a remedy 
 for great troubles. And now his only son might have 
 remained at home. Syr. (aside) I know not whether he 
 may say these things in joke or in earnest. However 
 
TERENTII HEAUT0NTIM0RUMEN0S. 177 
 
 he gives me courage indeed, by which it may be more 
 agreeable to me to cheat. Chr. And now what does he 
 wait for, Syrus ? Whether until he must go away again, 
 when he be not able to support her expences? Does he 
 not feign some story to his father ? Syr. He is foolish. Chr. 
 But it behoves you to give your assistance, for the sake of 
 the young man. Syr. I can easily indeed do it, if you order 
 me. For I know well by what means that can generally be 
 done. Chr. By so much truly you are better off. Syr. It 
 is not my way to tell lies. Chr. Therefore do it. Syr. But 
 harkye thou, take care in the while, that you may remem- 
 ber these same things, if any thing like this shall have 
 come to pass by chance at some time, as human affairs are, 
 that your own son may do them. Chr. The trial of them 
 will not come, I hope. Syr. I really also hope it. Nor do 
 I now speak that way, forasmuch as I may have perceived 
 any thing as to him. But if any thing, and lest any thing 
 
 You see what his time of life be. And verily if the 
 
 trial may come, I can be able to handle you nobly, Chre- 
 mes. Chr. Concerning that, when the trial shall have come, 
 we will see what may needs be. At present mind that thing 
 only. (Exit Chremes into his house ) Syr. (solus J Never at 
 any time have 1 heard my master speak more commodious- 
 ly. Nor, when I should commit a fault, could I believe it 
 to be lawful forme to do it more scot-free (he looks at Chre~ 
 mes's door.) Who goes out of doors from our house ? (Sy- 
 rus retires back.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Cremes from his house, followed by Clitipho.^ 
 
 Chremes. What is that I ask you ? What, Clitipho, is 
 that conduct as to him ? Is it proper that it be done thus ? 
 Clit. What have I done? Chr. Have I seen you just now 
 put your hand into this harlot's bosom ? Syr. (behind) This 
 affair is all over. I am lost. Clit. Have you seen me ? 
 Chr. With these eyes. Deny it not. So you do an injury 
 scandalously to that young man, who cannot keep off your 
 hand. For that is indeed ill-usage, to receive a man who . 
 is your friend, and secretly, to dally with his mistress. Even 
 yesterday in drinking of wine how indecent you have been ! 
 Syr. (behind) It was done. (Continuing) How troublesome 
 also ! That really, so may the gods love me, I feared what 
 might at last come about. I have known the mind of 
 
17$ TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 lovers. They notice with uneasiness things which you may 
 not think they do. Clit. But I have confidence with him, 
 that I am about to do nothing of that kind, father. Chr. 
 Be it so. But certainly you may step aside somewhere 
 from their company a little. Much desire actuates them ; 
 your presence hinders those matters. I make a conjecture 
 from myself. There is no one of my friends to-day, before 
 whom I can venture to put forth all my secret plans, Cli- 
 tipho. Before one my dignity hinders me. Before another, 
 it shameth me of the fact itself, lest I may appear silly, and 
 lest I may appear wanton ; which thing believe thou that 
 he practises. But it is our part to understand, how and 
 where it may be necessary to be obliging. Syr. {behind) 
 What is he saying as to him ? Clit, I am confounded ! 
 Syr. {coming up) Clitipho, 1 charge you as to these things, 
 that you may have performed the duty of a sober and 
 temperate man, Clit, Prithee, be silent. Syr. I have 
 rightly said it indeed. Chr. Syrus, it shameth me of him. 
 Syr, I believe it, and that not without reason. Moreover 
 to me it is a matter of uneasiness. Clit. Are you going on 
 still indeed ? Syr. I say what seems to me the truth. Clit, 
 May I not approach to them ? Chr. Harkye, I beg, is 
 there only one way of approaching? Syr, (aside) It is all 
 over. He will have discovered himself, before that I shall 
 have made out the money. (To Chremes) Are you willing, 
 Chreines, to listen to me as to what you will do to the 
 foolish man? Chr, What shall I do? Syr, Order him to 
 go away hence somewhere. Clit. Where can I go hence? 
 Syr. Where? where it pleases you. Give them oppor- 
 tunity. Go away to walk. Clit To walk? whither? Syr, 
 Ho ! ho I as if a place can be wanting. Get you gone 
 truly, that way, or that other way, where you choose. Chr. 
 I am of opinion, he says rightly. Clit. May the gods root 
 you out Syrus, who can thrust me out from hence. Syr. 
 But you, keep fast those hands of yours hereafter truly. 
 (Exit Clitipho at the side scene) Do not you really think 
 so? Moreover, Chremes, what do you believe that he 
 will do, unless you keep him safe, as much as the gods 
 give you power, and chastise him, and admonish him ? 
 Chr, I will take care of that. Syr. But now, master, he 
 must be kept strict to you. Chr. It shall be done. Syr. If 
 you can be wise. For he now complies with me less and 
 less. Chr. What are you about ? what have you done, 
 Syrus, about that matter, which I lately treated of with 
 you ? or have you fouud that which may please you, or 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMOItUMENOS. 179 
 
 even not as yet ? Syr, Do you speak concerning the fraud ? 
 (lowering his voice) Hist ! I have hit upon a certain trick 
 lately. Chr. You are a trusty fellow. Tell me what it is. 
 Syr. I will tell you. It is true, as one thing comes on from 
 another. Chr. What, Syrus ? Syr, This harlot is the very 
 worst woman. Chr. So it seems. Syr. Verily if you were to 
 know — —Observe this bad deed, which she must begin 
 with. There was a certain old woman of Corinth 
 here. She had given a loan to this old woman of a thousand 
 drachmas of silver. Chr. What then ? Syr. That woman 
 is dead, and left behind a daughter a young woman. That 
 girl is left as security to her for that money. Chr. I un- 
 derstand. Syr. She has brought her with her here, and 
 the girl is now with your wife. Chr. What then ? Syr. 
 She begs of Clinia that he may now give her that money, 
 and that that woman will afterwards give it to him. She 
 requires a thousand pieces. Chr. And does she ask it 
 indeed as the price of the girl ? Syr. Heyday ! is that 
 doubtful? Chr. I thought so. What now do you think 
 to do? Syr. Do I think to do? I will go to Menedemus. 
 I will say that this girl has been taken a prisoner from 
 Caria, rich, and noble, and that there would be great 
 profit in her, if he redeem her. Chr. You are mistaken. 
 Syr. Why so ? Chr. I now answer you for Menedemus, I 
 do not buy her. What do you do now ? Syr. You will 
 mention the things wished for. Chr. But there is no need. 
 Syr. Is there no need ? Chr. Truly there is not indeed. 
 Syr. How is that? lam astonished. Chr. You shall know 
 now. {A noise is heard at Chremcs's door) Wait ! wait ! 
 what is it, that my doors have rattled so loudly there? 
 
 ( They both stand back.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Sostrata in great agitation, followed by an old 
 nurse — she holds up a ring in her hand.) 
 
 Sos. Unless my mind deceives me, this indeed is the 
 ring, which I suspect it to be ; that very ring, with which 
 my daughter was espoused. Chr. (behind) What does this 
 speech mean, Syrus? Sos. {to the nurse) What is it? 
 does it seem to you to be that same ? Nur. I said indeed 
 at once when you shewed it to me, that it is it. Sos. But 
 is it certain that you may have looked at it enough, just 
 now, my nurse? Nur. Quite enough. Sos. Go away now 
 
180 TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 this moment within-doors, and if she shall have now taken 
 
 the bath, bring me word. I will in the mean time wait 
 
 for my husband here. [Exit Nurse into Ckremes' house) 
 
 Syr. [behind) She wishes for you ; see what she may want 
 
 of you. She is sad [ know not why. It is not for nothing. 
 
 I fear what it may be. Chr. What it may be? Verily and 
 
 truly now she with a great fuss will have told me some 
 
 important silly trifles. Sos. (looking round) Aha ! my 
 
 husband ! Chr. Aha ! my wife ! Sos. I am seeking you 
 
 yourself. Chr. Speak what you may wish of me. Sos. In 
 
 the first place, I beg this of you that you may not believe 
 
 that I dared to do any thing against your command. Chr. 
 
 Are you willing that I should believe you as to that, even 
 
 if it is not to be believed ? Well ! I do believe you. Syr. 
 
 I know not what of crime this clearing of herself carries 
 
 with it. Sos. Do you remember that I was big with child, 
 
 and that you with the greatest energy told me, if I should 
 
 bring forth a girl, that you were unwilling she should be 
 
 taken up ? Chr. I know what you may have done ; you 
 
 took her up. Syr. (to Sostrata) The fact is so, mistress; 
 
 therefore my master was encreased as to his family by your 
 
 fault. Sos. I did not take her up ; but there was an old 
 
 woman of Corinth here, not dishonest. I gave her to her 
 
 to be exposed. Chr. O Jupiter ! that there should be so 
 
 great absurdity in your mind ! Sos. (clapping her hands) 
 
 I am destroyed ! what have I done ? Chr. But do you 
 
 ask? Sos. If I have done wrong, my Chremes, I have 
 
 done it in ignorance. Chr. I know that indeed for certain, 
 
 although you may deny it, that you say and do all things 
 
 ignorant and imprudent, and you shew so many faults in 
 
 this affair. For now in the first place, if you might have 
 
 been willing to execute my command, it behoved you to 
 
 destroy her. But not to pretend her death by words, and 
 
 in reality to give her a chance of living. But I pass by 
 
 that. You had pity. You had the fondness of a mother. 
 
 I allow it. How in truth have you looked forward well ? 
 
 What have you wished for ? Think to yourself now. In 
 
 fact your daughter was given up by you to that old woman, 
 
 most evidently either that she should make lucre of her 
 
 through you, or that she should be openly sold. I believe 
 
 you thought as to that in this way, any thing is enough, 
 
 provided she may live only. What can you do with those, 
 
 who know neither what is right, nor what is good and just, 
 
 whether it be better, or worse, whether it may profit or 
 
 hurt, they look to nothing unless what pleases themselves. 
 
TIRENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 181 
 
 Sos. My Chremes, I have done wrong, I confess. I am 
 convinced. Now I beg this of you, that by how much the 
 wiser your mind is by age, and more inclined to pardon, 
 there may be some refuge to my folly in your goodness. 
 Chr. Be it known I will indeed pardon that proceeding. 
 But, Sostrata, my easiness of disposition badly teaches 
 you But now speak what is that matter for the sake of 
 which this was treated of. Sos. How foolish and wretched 
 we all are by scruples ! When I give her to be exposed, I 
 draw off a ring from my finger, and say to the woman that 
 she should expose it along with the girl ; that if she should 
 die, the girl might not be without a part of our possessions. 
 Chr. That was right; you have kept yourself safe, and her 
 also. Sos. [holding up the ring) This is that same ring. 
 Chr. Whence do you get it ? Sos. It belongs to the young 
 woman whom Bacchis brought with her. Syr. Ah ! ha ! 
 Chr. (to Synts) What is she saying ? Sos. She, while she 
 is going to bathe, gave it to me to be kept. I noticed it not 
 at first. But after that I looked at it, at once I recog- 
 nised it. I hurried out to you. Chr. What now do you 
 suspect, or find out concerning her. Sos. I know not, 
 unless you may enquire from herself, whence she may have 
 had it, if it is possible to be discovered. Syr. (aside) I 
 have perished. I see more of hope here than I wish. She 
 is belonging to us, if it is thus. Chr. (to Sostrata J Does 
 the woman live to whom you had given her ? Sos. I know 
 not. Chr. What hath she formerly told you that she did? 
 Sos. That which I had ordered. Chr. Tell me the name 
 of the woman what it may be, that she may be sought for. 
 Sos. Philtere. Syr. (aside) It is she herself; it is a wonder 
 if she is not safe and sound, and I am lost. Chr. Sostrata, 
 follow me this way in-doors. Sos. How it has turned out 
 beyond expectation I how terribly I feared, lest you should 
 be now with a disposition as rigorous as you were formerly 
 in taking it up, Chremes ! Chr. It is not possible often- 
 times that a man should be so as he chooses, if any cir- 
 cumstance does not permit bin*. Now the occasion is to 
 me in such a way, that I can wish to have a daughter. 
 Formerly nothing was less my wish. (Exeunt Chremes and 
 Sostrata into his house. Syrus follows them.) 
 
182 TERENTII HEAUT0NTI3J0RUMENOS. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Sv rus from Chremes's ?iouse.) 
 
 Syr. Unless my mind deceives me, misfortune will not 
 be far distant from me. So suddenly in this affair are my 
 powers now constrained. Unless I look to some plan, 
 that the old man may not come to know, that this woman 
 is the mistress of his son. For as to what I may hope for 
 about the money, or as to what I may require myself to 
 be able to cheat him in, it is a mere nothing. I am well 
 off, if it is lawful to get away with whole bones. I am ago- 
 nized that so great a prey hath been snatched from my 
 jaws, so suddenly. What shall I do ? or what shall I 
 think of? A scheme is to be entered into by me quite 
 anew. Nothing is so difficult, but by searching can be 
 traced out step by step, (puts his hand to his forehead 
 thinking J What if I shall begin this matter now in this 
 way? [snaps his fingers) It is nothing. What if so? 
 I shall have done just as much. But I think it may be thus. 
 It cannot be. Yes, in the very best way. Well done ! I 
 have an excellent scheme. Really I think I shall get back 
 to me that same slippery money yet. 
 
 (Syrus stands bach.) 
 
 ACT. IV. SCENE II. 
 
 {Enter Clinia from Chremes's house, rubbing his hands 
 in joy.) 
 
 Clin. No affair now ever so great can come across me 
 hereafter which can bring me sorrow, this joy so great has 
 arisen. I surrender myself now this moment to my father 
 with assurances, that I can be more frugal even than he 
 wishes. Syr. (behind) Nothing has escaped my pene- 
 tration. She is known, as far as I hear his words. (He 
 goes up to him. J I rejoice that matter hath happened to 
 you according to your wishes. Clin. O my Syrus, have 
 you heard me, I pray ? Syr. Why should I not have heard 
 you, who can have been present with you all the time ? 
 Clin. To whom have you ever heard that any thing hap- 
 pened equally convenient ? Syr. To no one. Clin. And 
 now may the gods love me, but I rejoice, not so much for 
 my own sake, as for her's, whom I know to be worthy of 
 
TERENT1I HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 18S 
 
 any honour whatever. Syr. So I believe. But now, Cli- 
 nia, mind this, give yourself up to me in turn ; for the 
 affair of your friend is also to be looked to, that it may be 
 } laced in safety, lest the old man may now come to know 
 about his mistress. Clin. {clappinghh hands) O Jupiter ! Syr. 
 Be quiet now. Clin, {exclaiming) My Antiphila will mary 
 me! Syr. Do you thus interrupt me ? Clin. What shall 
 I do, my Syrus? I am rejoicing. Bear with me- Syr. I 
 do truly indeed bear with you. Clin. I have obtained the 
 life of the gods. Syr. But now you will not attend to this. 
 Clin. I will attend to it. Syr. I say it is to be looked to, 
 Clinia, that your friend's affair also may be placed in 
 safety. For if you now depart from us, and leave Bacchis 
 here behind, the old man will at once come to know 
 that this woman is the mistress of Clitipho. You shall 
 have taken her away, she will be concealed as she is yet 
 concealed. Clin. But really, Syrus, there is nothing more 
 opposed to my marriage than that ; for with what face shall I 
 call upon my father ? Do you know what I may say ? 
 Syr. Why not ? Clin. What may I say to him ? what 
 cause may I offer? Syr. What? I am unwilling you may 
 tell a lie. Tell the thing openly, exactly as the affair 
 stands. Cin. What do you say ? Syr. I order you to 
 say that you love the other, and wish her to be your wife. 
 That this woman is Clitipho's. Clin. You directly com- 
 mand a pood and just thing, and easy to be done. And 
 besides now you will wish me to prevail on my father as to 
 this, that he may conceal it from your old man. Syr. 
 Verily, that in a direct way he may tell him all the affair 
 in order. Clin. Hah ! are you sufficiently in your senses, 
 or sober? You indeed are betraying him evidently, for 
 how will he be able to exist in safety, tell me that? Syr. 
 To this very scheme truly I give the glory; here I boast 
 myself very greatly, that I who can have in myself so great 
 a force and power of so much craftiness, may deceive them 
 both by telling true things; that when your old man may 
 tell to ours, that she is the mistress of his son, he may 
 nevertheless disbelieve it. Clin. But in truth by these 
 means you again take away all hope of my marriage ; for 
 while he shall believe that she is nry mistress, he will not 
 commit his daughter to me. You perhaps think it of little 
 moment what may happen to me, as long as you can profit 
 him. Syr. Why, a curse, do you think that I wish that 
 to be pretended during an age? It i* only one day, while 
 I am dragging out the money ; silence ! it is nothing 
 
184 TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 more. Clin, Do you account so much time to be satis- 
 factory ? What then, I beg, if my father shall have come 
 to the knowledge of this scheme? Syr. What if I go to 
 those who say, what if the sky may now fall ? Clin. I 
 tremble at what I shall do. Syr. Do you tremble? as if 
 there may not be that power of yours to free yourself at 
 what time you may wish, and expose the affair. Clin. 
 Well ! well ! Let Bacchis be carried across. Syr, Ex- 
 cellent well ! She herself is going oui of doors. (They 
 retire,) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter from Chremes's house, Bacchis, followed by 
 Phrygia.) 
 
 Bac, Petulantly enough indeed have Syrus's promises 
 led me hither, as to the ten pounds which he engaged to 
 give me. But if he shall have now deceived me, he shall 
 often come in vain, beseeching me to come. Or when I 
 shall have said and fixed that 1 will come, and when he 
 shall have carried back word for certain, and Clitipho 
 shall be doubtful with hope, I will deceive him, and not 
 come; and Syrus shall get a flogging to my comfort. Clin, 
 {behind) Cleverly enough she threatens you. Syr, But do 
 you believe that she is joking ? She will do it unless I 
 take care. Bac. They are asleep, I truly will rouse them 
 up. (She turns to Phrygia.) My Phrygia, heard you, which 
 country house that man just now pointed out as belonging 
 to Cratinus ? P/it\ I heard it. Bac. And that it was the 
 nearest to this farm at the right hand ? Phr. I remember. 
 Bac. Go over there is a vehicle ; at his house the military 
 man is keeping the festivals of Dionysiu9. Syr. (behind) 
 What is she attempting? Bac. Tell him that I am here 
 wholly against my will, and am kept here. But that I am 
 about to deceive these people by some means, and shall 
 come to him. Syr. (behind J I am really undone. (He 
 goes up to her.) Bacchis, wait, wait; where are you sending 
 her, I beg ? Order her to stay. Bac. (to the woman) Go 
 away. Syr, But the money is ready. Bac. But I am 
 waiting here. Syr. But now it shall be given yon. Bac. 
 As it pleases you ; am I urging you ? Syr. But do you 
 know what, prithee ? Bac. What ? Syr. You are to 
 pass across to Menedemus, and your suit is to be conducted 
 over thither. Bac. What affair are you transacting now, 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 185 
 
 you knave you ? Syr. I ? I am striking out money, which 
 I may give to you. Bac. Do you think me a proper person 
 whom you may cheat ? Syr, It is not unfounded. Bac. 
 Have I still a transaction with you here? Syr. By no 
 means. I give back your money to you at once. Bac, 
 {moving across) Let us go. Syr, (going before) Follow me 
 this way. {Syr us and Bacchis exeunt into Menedemus's house, 
 presently Syrus returns) Syr, (calling aloud) Hillo ! 
 Dromo ! (Enter Dromo from Menedemus's house) Dro, 
 Who wants me? Syr. Syrus wants you. Dro, What 
 affair is it ? Syr. Carry across hither to your house spee- 
 dily all Bacchis's maid-servants. Dro. For what reason ? 
 Syr. Enquire not. Let them bring out those things which 
 they brought hither with them. The old man will hope 
 that his expence is lightened by the departure of these 
 women. Verily he knows not, how great loss this little 
 bit of gain may bring him. You, Dromo, are not to 
 know that which you do know, if you will be wise. Dro, 
 You shall call me dumby. (Exit Dromo into Chr ernes' s 
 house.) 
 
 {Exeunt Syrus and Clinia into Menedemus's house.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Chremes from his house.) 
 
 Chr, So shall the gods love me, how itpitieth me now of 
 the condition of Menedemus, that so great a calamity hath 
 comedown upon him. To support with food that woman 
 with all that family ! although I know he will not feel it 
 for these some days. But when he will see his daily ex- 
 pences at home to become so great, and that there are no 
 bounds to them, he will wish that his son may go away 
 from him again. (Enter Syrus from Menedemus's house.) 
 Behold Syrus most opportunely. Syr, (aside) Do I delay 
 to accost him ? Chr, (calling out) Syrus ! Syr, (going to 
 him) Oho ! Chr. What is the matter ? Syr. 1 was already 
 wishing that you yourself were met with. Chr, You seem 
 to have done business I know not what with the old man. 
 Syr, Do you wish to know what was done concerning him 
 just now ? I have made it said and done. Chr, In reality ? 
 Syr. Ay, in reality. Chr. I cannot refrain, but I must 
 stroke your head. Come hither, Syrus. (Syrus approaches, 
 and he pats his head.) I will do you some good for that affair, 
 and happy to do so. Syr. But if you were to know hovr 
 
1&6 TEHEKTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 cunningly a thing can have come into my mind. Chr. 
 What, are you boasting that things happened favourably ? 
 Syr. Really I am not indeed. I am to tell you a truth. 
 Chr- Say what is it ? Syr. Clinia said to Menedemus that 
 this Bacchis is Clitipho's mistress, and that he had brought 
 her with him for that reason, lest you should find it out. 
 Chr. That is finely said. Syr. Say what you think of this 
 trick, I beg. Chr. It is too much, I say. Syr. Verily if 
 you were to know But moreover hearken to the re- 
 mainder of the deception. He himself will say that he has 
 seen your daughter. That her beauty pleased him, after 
 that he may have seen her. And that he wishes her to be 
 his wife. Chr. Do you speak of her who was just now 
 found out? Syr. Her. And in fact he will desire that 
 she be demanded. Chr. Why that, Syrus ? For alto- 
 gether I do not understand. Syr. Heigh-day ! You are 
 dull. Chr. Perhaps so. Syr. Money will be given him against 
 the marriage, with which, some gold and clothes — do you 
 understand me? Chr. Ay, he may purchase. Syr. The very 
 thing. Chr. But I neithergiveherto him in marriage, nor con- 
 tract her. Syr. No ? For what reason ? Chr. Do you 
 
 ask me for what reason ? To a man Syr. As it pleases 
 
 you. I did not say that you should give her to . him 
 for ever, but I say that you might pretend it. Chr. A pre- 
 tence is not my way. And do you mix up those affairs in such 
 a manner, that you may not mix up me with them. What ! 
 That I may contract her to that man, to whom Imay not be 
 about to give her. Syr. I did believe so. Chr. By no means 
 may it be. Syr. Cleverly it could be done; and I began 
 this busines for that reason, because you awhile ago had 
 given me orders so strenuously. Chr. I believe it. Syr. 
 But truly I do that, Chremes, for the sake of what is just 
 and proper. Chr. Bui I very much wish you to take pains 
 that the thing may be done, in another way however. Syr. 
 It may be done. Another plan may be sought. But as to 
 that which I said to you about the money which that girl 
 wos eto Bacchis, that money must now be given back to 
 her, nor shall you moreover escape it now, saying to that 
 effect, what is it to me ? Was it given to me? Have I 
 ordered it ? Could she make my daughter a pledge, when 
 1 was unwilling ? That is a true word, Chremes, which 
 they say, the strictest justice is often the utmost malignity. 
 Chr. I will not do it. Syr. Verily if there is liberty 
 to others to act so, to you there is no liberty. All 
 men look upon you of a fine and exalted character. Chr. 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 187 
 
 {after thinking awhile) But I myself now will carry it 
 down to her. Syr, Verily order your son rather. Chr. 
 Wherefore? Syr. Because indeed the suspicion of the 
 love of Bacchis has been transferred to him. Chr. What 
 then ? Syr. Because it will seem more probable to be that 
 way, when he shall give it her. And at the same time I 
 shall more easily bring to pass that which I wish for. (He 
 looks towards the side scene.) In truth he himself is here. 
 Depart thou ; and bring out the money. Chr. 1 bring 
 it out now. (Exit Chremes into his house.) 
 
 ( Syr us steps aside. J 
 
 ACT. IV. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Clitipho at the side scene.) 
 
 Clit. There is no affair, though so easy, which you may 
 unwilling do, but it can be difficult in pe. rmance. Now 
 this walk, though not laborious, has given me up to 
 fatigue. Nor do I fear any thing now more, than lest I 
 may be again shut out hence in misery somewhere, that I 
 may not approach to Bacchis. (He sees Syrus) That all 
 gods and goddesses may indeed destroy you, Syrus, as 
 much as is possible, with that scheme of yours, and with 
 your undertaking ! You always devise things of this sort, 
 by which you may cut me in pieces. Syr. Are you to 
 go hence where you are worthy to go ? Ho nearly hath 
 your wantonness destroyed me ! Clit. 1 wish it was the 
 fact truly; you have deserved it thus. Syr. Deserved 
 thus? How ? Really I rejoice that I have heard that from 
 you, before that you might have the money, which I was 
 even now about to give you. Clit. What therefore are 
 you willing that I may say to you ? You went away and 
 brought my mistress here, whom it cannot be allowed to 
 me to touch, Syr. Now I am not angry. But do you know 
 where your Bacchis may be to you now ? Clit. At our house. 
 Syr. She is not. Clit. W 7 here therefore ? Syr. At Clinia's 
 house. Clit. I am lost. Syr. Be of good courage; this 
 moment you shall carry the money down to her, which 
 you promised her. Clit. You talk nonsense. From whence? 
 Syr, From your own father. Clit. You are sporting with 
 me perhaps. Syr. You shall experience it in reality. Clit. 
 Certainly I am a lucky man. I love you much Syrus. 
 Syr. Assist at a proper opportunity the cause for which 
 that matter may be done. (He looks at Chremes's door). 
 But your father is going out. Take care how you may 
 
188 TIJIENTII HBAUTONTIMORUMENOS 
 
 have wondered at any thing. Do what he shall com- 
 mand you. Speak very few words. {They go aside.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VI. 
 
 {Enter Chremes from his house, with a bag of money in 
 his hand.) 
 
 Chr. Where is Clitipho now ? Syr, (to Clitipho) Say, 
 behold me here. Chr. {to Syrus) Have you told him what 
 the matter should be ? Syr. I have told him all things in 
 general. Chr. {to Clitipho) Take this money, and carry 
 it down. (Clitipho stafids back.) Syr. (to Clitipho) Ad- 
 vance you ! Why do you stand there, you lump of stone? 
 Why do not you take it ? Clit. Give it me, why. (He 
 goes over and snatches it.) Syr. (to Clitipho) Follow me 
 this way in all haste. (He goes towards Menedemus's door.) 
 (to Chremes) You in the mean time will wait for us here, 
 until we go out again. For there is nothing which we 
 may delay for there very long. (Exeunt Syrus arid Clitipho 
 into Menedemus's house.) Chr. (solus) My daughter has 
 at this time from me in truth ten pounds; which I 
 calculate now to be given for her sustenance. Other 
 girls will get these for ornaments. Moreover besides these 
 things they require two talents of portion ! How many 
 things are done unjust and bad for the morals of people ! 
 I must find some one now, all other affairs being set 
 aside, to whom I may give my riches gained by my own 
 industry. (He stands near his door.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VII. 
 
 (Enter Menedemus^-o/w his house.) 
 
 Men. I think that I have been made now the most 
 happy of all men by much, since I understand that you, 
 my son, have grown wise. Chr. (aside) How mistaken 
 he is ! Men. (seeing Chremes) I was seeking you yourself 
 Ciiiemes. Save, as much as in you is, my son, and me, 
 and my family. Chr. Tell me what you wish that I may 
 do. Men. You have found to-day your daughter. Chr. 
 What then ? Men. Clinia wishes her to be given him as 
 a wife. Chr. I beg to know what kind of a man are you ? 
 Men. What kind ? Chr. Have you now forgot what 
 
TERENT1I HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 189 
 
 may have been said between us about the fraud, that in 
 that way money might be taken away from you ? Men. 
 I know. Chr. That very thing is now practised. Men. 
 What have you said, Chremes? I have made a mistake. 
 Chr. And this woman indeed who is at your house, is I 
 suppose, the Mistress of Clitipho ? Men. So they say. 
 Chr. And do you believe it ? Mem. All things. Chr. 
 And they say that he is willing to marry my daughter, that 
 when I shall have contracted her, you may give money 
 with which he may get gold and clothes, and other things 
 which are necessary. Men. That is it truly. That will 
 be given to his mistress. Chr. Ay, I say that he will give 
 it her. Men. Ah ! In vain therefore have I rejoiced, 
 wretched man as I am. Nevertheleess now I had rather 
 any thing to be, than to send him away. What answer 
 may I now carry back from you, Chremes, lest he may 
 perceive that I have found him out, and may bear it in 
 vexation ? Chr. In vexation ? You indulge him too 
 much, Menedemus. Men. Permit me. The thing is be- 
 gun* Make this lasting to me, Chremes. Chr. Say that 
 you met me, and treated about the marriage. Men. I will 
 say it. What afterwards ? Chr. That I am about to do 
 all things, and that my son-in-law pleases me ; lastly also, if 
 you will choose it, say also that she is contracted. Men. 
 Ay ! Ay ! I had wished that. Chr. That he may ask of 
 you so much the sooner, and that you may give that which 
 you are eager to give, as speedily as possibly. Men. I am 
 eager to give him money. Chr. Truly you shortly, as I 
 see that affair, will have enough of him. But however 
 these things are, you will give it him with caution, and 
 by little and little, if you will be wise. Men. I will do so. 
 Chr. Go away in-doors; see what he may require. I will 
 be at home, if you shall want me as to any thing. Men. 
 Really I wish that ; for whatever 1 shall have done, I will 
 make you acquainted with it. (Exeunt Mendemus and 
 ChremeS) each into his own house) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Menedemus from his house.) 
 
 Menedemus I know that truth, that I am not so crafty, 
 nor so sagacious, but this my assistant, and adviser, and 
 forewarner Chremes excels me as to this qualification. Any 
 one thing of these matters suits me, which are sayings in 
 
190 TERENTII MEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 regard to a fool ; a blockhead, a log, an ass, a dolt. Noth- 
 ing of that sort can suit him, for his folly out does all these 
 things. (He stands near his door.) 
 
 (Enter Chremes from his house, turns about, the door 
 being open, and speaks to his wife within. J 
 
 Chremes- Well now, wife leave off this moment to stun 
 the gods with thanking them that your daughter is found ; 
 unless you judge them of your own disposition, that you 
 can believe you understand nothing, unless the same be 
 said a hundred times over. (He turns away and walks on) 
 But in the mean time why does my son delay all this time 
 therewith Syrus? Men. {coming up to him) What men, 
 Chremes, do you say are delaying ? Chr. Oho, Mendemus, 
 are you come ? Tell me, have you told Clinia what I 
 said ? Men. All things. Chr. What does he say? Men. 
 He began to rejoice upon that, just as those who wish for 
 marriage. Chr. (laughing) Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! Men. Why 
 have you laughed ? Chr. The cunning tricks of my ser- 
 vant Syrus came into my mind. Men. Is it so ? Chr. 
 The countenance also of the men is playing rogery. Men. 
 Do you say to iat effect, that my son preiends that he is 
 joyful ? Chr. To that effect. Men. That also came into 
 my mind. Chr. He is an old practitioner. Men. If you 
 may have known him more, you must the more think that 
 the affair is so. Chr. Do you say so ? Men. But do thou 
 hearken. Chr. Wait ; I desire to know this first, what 
 money you may have lost ; for when you announced to 
 your son that the girl was contracted to him, I suppose 
 that Dromo forsooth immediately threw in words to you, 
 that clothes, gold, and maid-servants were necessary to 
 the bride, in order that you might give money. Men. No. 
 Chr. What ? No ? Men. No, I say. Chr. Nor hath your son 
 himself said so ? Men. Nothing at all, Chremes. He began 
 to urge the one thing still more, that the nuptials should be 
 performed to-day. Chr. You tell wonderful things. What 
 hath my Syrus said ? Hath he indeed said nothing ? Men. 
 Nothing. Chr. Wherefore ? Men. I know not indeed. But I 
 wonder at you, who can know other things so clearly ! 
 But that same Syrus hath also wonderfully deceived your 
 son, that he cannot smell out a little in fact, that this wo- 
 man is Clinia's mistress. Chr. What do you say ? Men. 
 I set aside now that he kissed her and embraced her. I 
 think that to be nothing. Chr. What is there more which 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS 191 
 
 may be pretended ? Men. (shaking his head) Ah ! Chr. 
 What is it ? Men. Only hear. I have a certain closet 
 backward in the farthest part of the house. A bed was 
 brought hither inside, and laid down with bed-clothes. 
 Chr, What then after this was done? Men. When it 
 was said and done, Clitipho went away hither. Chr. Was 
 he alone ? Men. He was alone. Chr. I am alarmed ! 
 Men. Bacchis immediately followed him. Chr. alone? 
 Men. Alone. Chr. I an/ lost. Men. When they went 
 inside, they closed the door. Chr. Aha ! Did Clinia see 
 these things happen ? Men. Why not ? He was along 
 with me together. Chr. Bacchis is my son's mistress, 
 Mendemus. I have perished. Men. Wherefore ? Chr. 
 I have a family scarcely of ten days continuance. Men. 
 What? Do you fear that, because he only serves his 
 friend ? Chr. Verily because he attends to the mistress. 
 Men. If he does attend to her. Chr. Is that doubtful to 
 you? Do you think there is any one of sc mild and gen- 
 tlea disposition, who may suffer his mistress to be possessed 
 before his eyes? Men. Ah ! Why not? In order that 
 tricks may be played more easily upon me. Chr. Are vou 
 laughing at me ? I am now angry with myself deservedly. 
 How many things offered themselves by which I could be 
 able to discover it, unless I were a stone ! W T hat things 
 I have seen ! Woe to me miserable ! But truly they shall 
 not carry that unpunished. For now. (he knocks his 
 stick down in a rage) Men. Do you not restrain yourself ? 
 Do you not regard yourself? Am not I sufficient example 
 to you ? Chr. 1 am besides myself through rage, Mene- 
 demus. Men. O that you should speak that ? Is not 
 that a crime that you should give counsel to others, and 
 are wise out of doors, and that you should not be 
 able to assist yourself. Chr. What shall I do ? Men. 
 That which you said that lhadnot done. Cause him to feel 
 that you are truly his parent. Cause him to venture to 
 trust all things to you. To ask and require from you, lest 
 he may seek for some other power of acting, and may for- 
 sake you. Chr. Verily let him go with many a curse any- 
 where in the world, rather than through wickedness here 
 he may reduce his father to beggary. For if I go on to sup- 
 ply him in his extravagancies, Menedemus, that property of 
 mine truly comes to daily labour. Men. What unhap- 
 piness you will take to yourself in this affair, unless you 
 are careful ! You will shew yourself to be severe, and ne- 
 vertheless you will pardon afterwards, and that ungracious- 
 ly Chr. Ah ! You know not how greatly I may grieve. Men, 
 
192 TEREtfTII HEAUTQNTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 As it pleases you. What do you say as to this which I 
 wish for, that that daughter of yours may marry my son ? 
 Unless there is any thing else which you had rather. Chr. 
 Verily both the son-in-law and the relations please me. 
 Men. What portion shall I say that you have mentioned 
 for my son ? (a pause) Why have you been silent ? Chr. 
 What portion, say you ? Men. So I am saying. Chr. 
 (shaking his head) Ah ! Men. Chremes, fear not any 
 thing, if it be somewhat less. The portion does not trou- 
 ble us. Chr. I have determined two talents to be enough, 
 considering my property ; but it is necessary to be said in 
 this way, if you wish me to be safe, and my property, and 
 my son, that I have pronounced all my property to be the 
 portion to her. Men. What affair are you doing ? Chr. 
 Pretend that you wonder at it, and ask him at the same 
 time this, for what reason I may do it. Men. But truly I 
 know not for what reason you may do it. Chr. I may do it ? 
 That I may beat down and reduce the disposition of him 
 who is dissolute with luxury and wantonness, that he may 
 know not where to turn himself. Men. What are you 
 about ? Chr. Let me alone, suffer me in this affair to have 
 my own way. Men. I suffer you. Do you wish it to be 
 so ? Chr. I wish it so. Men. Let it be done. Chr. 
 And now let him prepare to call his wife to him. This 
 young man shall be confuted with words, as is proper to- 
 wards my children. But as to Syrus Men. What 
 
 will you do as to him ? Chr. What shall I do ? If I 
 live, I will have him so trimmed and curried, that while he 
 may live, he shall always remember me; a fellow who thinks 
 me an object of derision, and a pleasantry to himself. So 
 may the gods love me, he would not dare to do these things 
 to a destitute woman, which he hath done towards me. 
 (Chremes walks back in agitation.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Clitipho from Menedemus's house, Syrus follow- 
 ed, and walks up to Menedemus.) 
 
 Clitipho. Is it so at length, Menedemus, I pray, that my 
 father in so short a time may have cast off from me all the 
 disposition of a father? For what bad deed? What so 
 great wickedness have 1 a wretched man committed ? 
 Men eommonly do these things. Men. I know that this 
 is much more heavy and grievous to you to whom it hap- 
 pens, but I am no less concerned at it, who am ignorant 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTTMOUUMENOS. 1$S 
 
 of the matter. Nor have I any reason, unless that I wish 
 you well from my heart. Clit. (to Syr us J Did you say 
 lhat my father was here? Men. {pointing to Chremes) 
 Behold him. Chr. [advancing) Why do you find fault 
 with me, Clitipho ? Whatever of this matter I have done, 
 I have looked forward to yourself and your folly. When I 
 saw you to be of a relaxed disposition, and to hold of great 
 consequence those things which might be pleasant at the 
 present time, and not to take thought for the future, I en- 
 tered on a plan, that you should neither be in want, nor 
 that you should have it in your power to squander these 
 things. When I was not at liberty through your conduct 
 to give them to you, to whom first it became me to give 
 them, I went to the nearest relations that you had. To 
 them I committed and trusted my property. A guard 
 against your folly will be always there, Clitipho. There 
 will be maintenance for you, and clothing, and a house in 
 which you may betake yourself. Clit. (sighing) Alas me! 
 Chr. This is better, than you yourself being the heir, that 
 Bacchis should possess these things. Syr. [behind) I am 
 ruined. How great troubles have 1, a wicked fellow, stirred 
 up in ignorance. Clit. (wringing his hands) I wish to die. 
 Chr. Learn first, I beg, what it may be to live. When 
 you shall know that, if life shall displease you, then prac- 
 tise that. (Syrus advances and bows to his master J Syr. 
 Master, is it lawful to speak ? Chr. Say on. Syr. But 
 safely ? Chr* Speak. Syr. Whatever that depravity is, 
 and the silliness is, as to what I have committed wrong, is 
 it proper that it should do harm to him? Chr, At once I 
 say, do not bring yourself in. No one accuses you, Sy- 
 rus. Neither may you have prepared an altar for yourself, 
 nor an intercessor. (Chremes goes towards his house) Syr. 
 What are you doing, Master ? Chr. [turning about) lam 
 not angry, neither with you, nor him, nor is it right that 
 you both should be displeased with me as to that which I 
 do. (Exit Chremes into his house and Menedemus into his 
 own) Syr. He hath gone away; ah! I should wish to 
 have asked — Clit. What, Syrus? Syr. Whence I should 
 look for my food ; he hath so estranged us from him. I 
 understand that your place is along with your sister. Clit. 
 That the affair should have come to that pass, that I must 
 have danger even of hunger, Syrus. Syr. Let there be 
 liberty only to live, and there is hope. Clit. What hope? 
 Syr. That we shall be hungry enough. Clit. Are you jok- 
 ing at me in so great an affair, nor assist me in any respect 
 o 
 
194 TERENTII HEAUTONT1MORUMENOS. 
 
 with counsel ? Syr. Verily I am also thereabouts now, 
 and minded that awhile ago while your father is speaking, 
 
 and as far as I am able to understand Clit. What ? 
 
 Syr. He will not go very far away. Clit. What as to that 
 therefore? Syr. It is thus. I am of opinion that you are 
 not belonging to these, Clit. What is that, Syrus? Are 
 you sufficiently sound in mind ? Syr. I will tell you what 
 comes into my* mind ; do you judge of it. While you were 
 their only child, while there was no other charm, which 
 could be nearer, they were indulging you, and were 
 giving to you ; now after that a real daughter has been 
 found, a cause is discovered, for which they might expel 
 you. Clit. It is probable. Syr. Whether do you think 
 that he is enraged on account of this fault ? Clit. I think 
 not. Syr. Now look to another thing ? Allmothers are 
 assistants to their children in a fault done, and are used to 
 be a support to them, in any harsh usage of their father ; 
 that does not happen^ now. Cat. You say the truth. 
 What therefore shall I do now, Syrus ? Syr. Enquire of 
 them about that suspicion; bring the affair forth to open 
 day. If it is not true, you will bring them both quickly to 
 compassion, or will know whose son you may be. Clit. 
 You persuade me rightly ; I will do it. (Exit Clitipho into t 
 Chremes's house) Syr. [solus) This came into my mind 
 rightly enough ; for a young man, as he shall be placed in 
 the worst hope, so most easily will effect the good-will of 
 his father towards his own rules of acting. I know not also 
 whether or not he may marry a wife, and then will be no 
 favour for Syrus. (He looks at Chremes's door) But what 
 is this ? The old man is going out of doors. I am ofK 
 As to what has been done yet, 1 wonder that he has not or- 
 dered me to be seized forthwith. I will hence go on to 
 Menedemus ; for I am to get him as an intercessor for me. 
 I have no confidence towards our old man. (Exit into 
 Menedemus' s house.) 
 
 ACT. V. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Chremes and Sostrata from their house.) 
 
 Sostrata. Really, unless you good man are careful, you 
 will make some calamity to our son ; and I much wonder 
 at that, how any thing so silly can have been abk io come 
 into your mind, my dear husband. Chr. Oh ! Are you 
 going on still to be a. woman? Have I never wished for 
 
TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 195 
 
 any affair in my life, but you, Sostrata, may have been my 
 opponent in that affair? But if I were to ask you now, 
 what it is as to which I may do wrong, or wherefore I may 
 do it, you cannot know ; in which thing you now so con- 
 fidently stick out, you foolish woman. Sos. Am I ignorant 
 of it? Chr. Yes, you do know it, I grant that, rather 
 than that the same harangue may return anew in- 
 deed. Sos. Oh, you are an unjust man, who can require 
 me to be silent concerning so great an affair. Chr. I do 
 not require you ; now speak ; nevertheless I will do this 
 thing notwithstanding. Sos. Will you do it? Chr. True. 
 Sos. Do you not see how much of misfortune you may stir 
 up from that affair ? He suspects that he is a suppositious 
 son. Chr. Suppositious, say you ? Sos. It will certainly 
 be so, my dear husband. Chr* Confess then the matter. 
 Sos. Au ! I beseech you, that may be for our enemies. 
 Can I confess that he is not my son, who must be my son ? 
 Chr. What ? Do you fear lest, when you may wish it, 
 you cannot convince him that he is yours ? Sos. Is it be- 
 cause a daughter has been found ? Chr. No ; but that mat- 
 ter may be how much more to be believed because he is 
 like you in his ways, and you will easily convince him that 
 he is born of you. For he is precisely like you. For 
 there is no fault belonging to him left, but you must have 
 the very same ; then besides that, no woman except your- 
 self could bring forth such a son. (He looks towards his 
 own door) But he himself is going out, and how sulky he 
 seems ! When you may see the affair, then you may form 
 an opinion. 
 
 ( Chremes goes back, J 
 
 ACT V. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter ChiTivao from Chremes's house, and addresses his 
 mother.) 
 
 Clitipho. If ever there hath been any time, my mother, 
 when I may have been a delight to you, being called your 
 son with your own good will, I beseech you that you may 
 recollect it, and that now it may compassionate you of me 
 poor and deslitute. That which I ask and wish is, that 
 you may point out to me my parents. Sos. I beseech you, 
 my son, that you may not take that into your mind, that 
 you are belonging to others. Clit. I am an alien. Sos. 
 Wretched me ! Have you asked the question, 1 pray you ? 
 o 2 
 
196 TERENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 So may you remain to me and him, as you were born from 
 me and him ! And take care hereafter, if you love me, 
 how I may hear that word from you ever. Chr. {advanc- 
 ing from behind) But if you fear me, take care how I may 
 perceive those ways to be in you. Clit. What ways ? Chr. 
 If you are willing to know, I will tell them to you. You 
 are a trifler, a lazy fellow, a cheat, a glutton, a ruffian, a 
 prodigal. Believe this, and believe that you are my son. 
 Clit. These are not the words of a parent. Chr. If you 
 may have been born from my head, as they say that Mi- 
 nerva was from Jupiter, I may not the more suffer myself 
 for that reason, Clitipho, to become disgraced with your 
 crimes. Sos. May the gods prohibit that. Chr. I know 
 not as to the gods; I shall do diligently what I shall be 
 able to do. You seek that which you have, namely pa- 
 rents. You do not seek that which you have not, namely 
 how you may oblige your father, and how you may pre- 
 serve that, which he may have got by his industry. Have 
 you not dared through false tricks to bring before my eyes 
 that — it shames me to say the vile word, this woman being 
 present, but by no means hath it shamed you to do that vile 
 deed. Clit. (holding down his head) Alas ! How totally 
 now 1 am dissatisfied with myself! How it shamed me ! 
 Nor do I know what beginning I shall make towards ap- 
 peasing him. (Clitipho stands aside in distress.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Menedemus from his house, and walks in front. J 
 
 Menedemus. Verily and truly Chremes too heavily af- 
 flicts the young man, and too inhumanly. I go out there- 
 fore that I may conciliate peace between them ; (he tarns 
 about and sees them) Excellent well ! I see them both there. 
 (he goes towards Chremes) Chr. Oho, Menedemus, why 
 do you not order my daughter to be called to you, and 
 confirm that portion which I mentioned ? Sos. (taking 
 his hand) My dear husband, I entreat you that you may 
 not do it. Clit. (goes up to his father, and sinks on his 
 knee) I entreat that you may pardon me. Men. Pardon 
 him, Chremes. Suffer that they may prevail on you. 
 Chr. What, that I may give my fortunes to Bacchis as a 
 gift, and knowing it at the same time? I will not do it. 
 Men. But we will not suffer it to be given. Clit. If you 
 
TKKENTII HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 197 
 
 wish me to be alive, my father, pardon me. Sos. Do it, 
 my Chremes. Men. Do so, I beseech you, and do not 
 so harden yourself, Chremes. Chr. What is that ? I 
 see that it is not possible to get through this as I had be- 
 gun it. Men. You do, as it becomes you. Chr. I will 
 this so, with that condition, if he does that, which I 
 think it is right he should do. Clit. Father, I will do all 
 things ; do thou command me. Chr. That you must take 
 a wife. Clit, O my Father ! Chr. I hear nothing. Men. 
 I take that matter to myself. He wiil do it. Chr, 
 Not at all do I hear himself say it. Clit, I am undone. 
 Sos. Are you doubting, Clitipho ? Chr. Yea, let him say 
 which thing he chooses. Men. He will do all things. Sos. 
 These things, until you may begin, and while you may 
 be ignorant of them, are grievous ; when you shall have 
 known them immediately, they are light. Clit. I will do 
 so, father. Sos. O my son, I will indeed give you that 
 clever girl, whom you may easily love, the daughter of our 
 Phanocratas. Clit. Do you speak of that red-haired dam- 
 sel, grey-eyed, with a wide mouth, and a crooked nose? 
 I cannot accept of her, my father. Chr. Hey-day ! How 
 nice he is ! Can you believe that his liking is there? Sos, 
 I will give you another girl. Clit, What as to her? Since 
 a wife must be taken, I myself have one whom I pretty 
 well approve of. Sos. Now I like you, my son. Clit. The 
 daughter of this Archonidus. Sos. She pleases me much. 
 Clit. O my father, this thing remains now. Chr. What? 
 Clit. I am willing that you forgive Syrus as to those things 
 which he did for my sake. Chr. Let it be done. (To the 
 audience) Farewell ye, and clap your hands. 
 
19S 
 
 ARGUMENT, OR STORY OF THE HECYRA. 
 
 PAMPHILUS the son of Laches and Sostrata married 
 Philumena the daughter of Phidippus and Myrrhina. In 
 a drunken frolicsome time before, he had violated this girl 
 at the way-side in the dark, not knowing who she was, and 
 in the struggle had taken away a ring from her, which he 
 gave to the harlot Bacchis, with whom he was enamoured. 
 When he was married to Philumena ( which was at his 
 father's desire) he avoided having carnal knowledge of 
 his bride, and went away to a distant country, leaving his 
 wife at home at his father and mother's house. The wife's 
 mother Myrrhina perceiving she was big with child, lest 
 the mother-in-law might find it out, takes her home with 
 her to her own house, as if she were sick. Pamphilus re- 
 turns home, and going into My rrhina's house to see his wife, 
 discovers her being in labour. Myrrh ina's tells him of 
 Philumena's having been violated before marriage, and im- 
 plores him to keep secret her lying in. He accordingly 
 conceals it. But when urged by the family to take back 
 his wife to him, he refuses. His father reproves Bacchis 
 for continuing to retain him. Bacchis denies she has any 
 connection with him at this time. She goes into the wo- 
 men Myrrhina and Philumena, to clear herself of the sus- 
 picion. Myrrhina the mother of Philumena sees on Bac- 
 chis's finger the ring that her daughter had had. Thus a 
 discovery is made, and Pamphilus hearing the matter as 
 reported to him by Bacchis, of Myrrhina's acknowledging 
 the ring, and finding himself to have been the ravisher of 
 the girl, takes back to himself his wife and child. 
 
199 
 
 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 CHARACTERS IN THE HECYRA. 
 
 Philotis, — a harlot. 
 
 St/ra, — an old woman, her companion. 
 
 Laches, — an old gentleman. 
 
 Sostrata, — his wife. 
 
 Phidippus, — an old gentleman. 
 
 Myrrhina, — his wife. 
 
 PamphiluS) — a young man, son of Laches and Sostrata. 
 
 Parmeno, — servant to Laches and Pamphilus. 
 
 Bacchisy — a harlot. 
 
 Sosia, — a servant boy. 
 
 MUTE CHARACTERS. 
 
 Philumena, — daughter to Phidippus and Myrrhina. 
 
 Scirtus, — a servant boy. 
 
 A nurse* 
 
 Two maid servants of Bacchis. 
 
TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 Scene — A street in Athens— Laches s house on one side, and 
 Phidippus's on the other, with their doors opposite. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 {Enter from the back Scene Philotjs and Syra ; they walk 
 up the stage together, Syra hobbling with a stick. 
 
 Philotis- How very few lovers indeed may you find, 
 Syra, to turn out faithful to harlots ! Even how often this 
 Pamphilus used to swear to Bacchis, and how devoutly, so 
 that any one might easily believe him, that he never was 
 about to bring a wife home, she being alive ! Behold now, 
 he hath married. Syr. Therefore on that account I dili- 
 gently both advise and exhort you, that it may not compas- 
 sionate you of any one, but that you may rob, mutilate, 
 and tear to pieces whomsoever you may have got. Phil. O 
 that I can possess no one of excellence ! Syr. You have 
 no one. For be assured, not any one of those comes to 
 you, but can prepare himself in such away, that, by his 
 blandishments he may encrease his pleasure from you at the 
 smallest price possible. Will you not, my dear, in oppo- 
 sition, entrap these men ? Phil. Nevertheless indeed it is 
 a wrong thing that I should be the same to all. Syr. But 
 is it a wrong thing to punish those hostile to you? Or in 
 whichever way they may catch you, that they themselves be 
 caught? Alas! me miserable ! Why have not I either 
 that time of life, and beauty, or you this way of thinking ? 
 
 ACT I. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Parmeno from Laches's. He turns round, the door 
 being open, and speaks to a servant boy within. 
 
 Parmeno. If the old man shall enquire for me, say that 
 I have gone just now to the port to ask as to the arrival of 
 
TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 201 
 
 Pamphilus. Do you hear what I may say, Scirtus ? If he 
 shall ask for me, that then you may tell him so ; if he shall 
 not ask, you will have said nothing, that I may be able to 
 use this excuse fresh at another time, (he turns about) But 
 do I see Philotium? From whence does she come here? 
 (he goes vp to her) Philotis, health to you much! Phil. 
 O! Health to you, my stars, Parmeno ! Par. And you, 
 faith, Syra ! Tell me, Philotis, where have you regaled 
 yourself so long? Phil. I have by no means indeed regaled 
 myself, who went hence to Corinth with a most savage 
 military man ; during a long two years I put up with him 
 there in wretchedness. Par. Faith 1 judge, Philotium, 
 that you often had a wish for Athens, and that you neglect- 
 ed your own desire. Phil. It cannot be told, how desirous 
 I was of returning here, of going away from the soldier, 
 and of seeing you all here, that in my old way I might stir 
 up conviviality freely among you. For to him it was not 
 lawful to speak unless in a set manner those things which 
 might please him. Par. I think that the soldier fixed not 
 very pleasantly a limit to the conversation. Phil. But what 
 business is tins? What things hath Bacchis just now told 
 me here within? That which I believed never would be 
 that he could bring his mind to have a wife, she being alive. 
 Par. To have indeed ? Phil. But hark now you, has he 
 not a wife ? Par. He has. But I have a doubt how set- 
 tled these nuptials may be. Phil. May the gods and god- 
 desses have made it so, if it is an advantage to Bacchis ! 
 But how can I believe that to be so ? Tell me, Parmeno ! 
 Par. There is no need of its being published. Leave off 
 asking this. Phil. To be sure for that reason that it may 
 not become public. So shall the gods love me, I do not 
 ask you on that account that I may publish this, but 
 that I may rejoice with myself in silence. Par. You shall 
 never speak so pleasantly, that I shall commit my back into 
 your trust. Phil. Ah ! Do not be unwilling, Parmeno ; as 
 if you may not wish much rather to tell me this, than I to 
 know those things which I am asking about. Par. (aside) 
 She declares the truth, arid that is my greatest fault, (to 
 her) If you give me your promise that you will be silent, I 
 will £tell you. Phil. You come back to your natural 
 bent. I give my word. Speak. Par. Hearken. Phil. I 
 am up to that. Par* Pamphilus was in love with this Bac- 
 chis, as when most so, at that time, when his father begins 
 to entreat him, that he may take a wife ; and used to say 
 these words, which are the' common ones of all fathers, 
 
202 TEREtfTH HECYRA. 
 
 that he himself was an old man, and that the other was an 
 only son. That he wished to have him a protection for 
 his old age. The other began at first to refuse to do it, 
 but after that his father urges him more sharply ; it caused 
 him to be doubtful of mind, whether he should comply with 
 duty more, or with love. Lastly the old man brought the 
 thing about by drumming at him, and hard usage. He 
 married to him the daughter of this nearest neighbour. 
 That matter never at any time seemed grievous to Pam- 
 philus, until now in the very nuptials, after he sees them pre- 
 pared, nor that any delay was given, but he must marry. 
 Then at last he took it so to heart, that I do believe it would 
 raise pity of him there of Bacchis herself, if she could be 
 present. Whenever opportunity was given him of solitude, 
 so that he could converse along with me, he used to say, 
 Parmeno I have perished. What have I done ? Into what 
 calamity have I cast myself? I shall not be able to bear 
 this, Parmeno. I have perished in misery. Phil. But 
 may the gods and goddesses destroy you, Laches, with 
 that harsh usage ! Par. That I may come to a few words, 
 he carries his wife home. In that first night he touched 
 not the girl. The night that followed passed away, and 
 he touched her not more. 
 
 (Five lines omitted here-) 
 Phil. What is done since ? Par. Truly in a few days 
 afterwards, Pamphilus leads me alone with him out of 
 doors, and tells me, that the virgin even then were undefil- 
 ed by him and that he had hoped, before that he might 
 have brought her home, that he would be able to bear 
 those nuptials ; but, says he, Parmeno, it is neither ho- 
 norable for me, nor useful for the virgin herself that she 
 whom I may have determined that I can no longer have, 
 should be made a sport of, but rather I must give her back 
 as pure, as I received her from her relations. Phil. You 
 mention a good and proper disposition of Pamphilus. Par. 
 I judge it, says he, to be disadvantageous to me to make 
 this public. But that she, to whom you can impute no 
 fault, should be given back to her father, is an insolent 
 thing. However I hope that she, when she shall have 
 known this that she cannot be with me, will at length de- 
 part. Phil. What happened in the mean time ? Did he 
 go to Bacchis ? Par. Daily. But she, as it happens, after 
 that she sees him estranged from her, at once became ma- 
 lignant, and much more insolent. Phil. Truly it is not a 
 
TERENTII HECYRA. 203 
 
 wonder. Par. And that affair very much dissevered him 
 from her, after that he himself both knew himself, and her, 
 andthis girl, who was at home sufficiently, estimating in 
 comparison the manners of them both. This girl, so as is 
 becoming that one with a liberal disposition should be, 
 was bashful, and modest ; used to bear the neglects and all 
 the injuries of her husband, and to conceal his ill-usage. 
 Here his mind, bound partly by pity of his wife, partly 
 subdued by her injuries, by degrees fell away from Bacchis, 
 and transferred his love hither, after he found a right dis- 
 position in her. In the mean time an old man, a relation 
 of these dies in Imbrus, and that inheritance by law re- 
 turned to them. The father drives out thither the loving 
 Pamphilus against his will. He leaves his wife behind along 
 with his mother; for the old man hid himself in the coun- 
 try, and seldom moves hither into the city. Phil, What 
 uncertainty have the nuptials still remaining ? Par. Now 
 you shall hear. At first there was good agreement between 
 those women for some few days. In the mean time in a 
 wonderful manner the girl began to detest Sostrata. Nor 
 were there any open quarrels between them, and never any 
 remonstrance. Phil. What therefore was between them ? 
 Par. If at any time Sostrata had approached to her to 
 hold converse, she used to fly away instantly out of her 
 sight, and to refuse to see her. Lastly, when the other 
 cannot put up with it, she pretends that she is called by 
 her mother to a divination. She goes away. When she 
 is there for some more days, Sostrata orders her to be 
 called. They then mentioned some excuse, I know not 
 what. Again she orders her to be called. No one sent 
 her back. After that they often call her, they pretend that 
 the woman is sick. Our Sostrata goes immediately to pay 
 a visit to her. No one admitted her. When the old man 
 came to the knowledge of this, yesterday he came from the 
 country for that reason, and immediately met with the father 
 of Philumena. What they may have transacted between 
 them, I do not even as yet know. But truly it is a matter 
 of care to me, which way the thing is about to turu out. 
 Now you have all the affair. I will continue this journey 
 in which I set off. Phil. And I in truth will go on ; for I 
 appointed with a certain stranger, that I will meet him. 
 Par. May the gods prosper that which you may do. Phil. 
 Farewell ! Par. You also farewell prosperously, Philotium ! 
 (Exit Parmeno at the back scene. Philotis and Syra exeunt 
 at the side scene.) 
 
204 TERENTII HECYKA. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Laches and Sostrata from their house) 
 
 Laches., O the faith of gods and men ! Wha?, family is 
 this ! What is this combination ! That all women can like 
 all the same things equally, and dislike them also ! Nor 
 can you find any one of them different in any respect from 
 the disposition of others ! And so therefore all the mothers- 
 in-law unanimous hate their daughters-in-law. It is equally 
 their desire to be opposed to their husbands. Their po- 
 sitivenessis similar; and they all seem to me taught in the 
 same school to perverseness. To this same school, if there 
 is any such, I know pretty certain that this woman is the 
 mistress. Sos. Me miserable ! Who know not now why 
 I may be accused. Lach. Hah ! Do you not know ? Sos. 
 No, so may the gods love me, my Laches ; and in this way 
 it may be possible between us to pass an age together. 
 Lach, May the gods prohibit calamities ! Sos. And you 
 will find out hereafter that I have been accused by you un- 
 deservedly. Lach. I know the thing. You accused un- 
 deservedly ? Can any thing be said fitting for you for those 
 deeds, who dost disgrace me, and thyself, and all the family, 
 and dost prepare sorrow for thy son ? But then be- 
 sides, you make our relations from friends to be enemies to 
 us, those who determined, that he was worthy to whom 
 they might commit their children. You alone maybe pre- 
 vailed on by their entreaties, who can not disturb these 
 things by thy imprudence. Sos. Do I disturb them ? Lach, 
 Thou, I say woman, who thinkest me altogether a stone, 
 and not a man. Whether or no, because I am used to be 
 often in the country, do ye think that I am ignorant in 
 what manner every one of you women may pass your life 
 here ? I know much better those things that happen here 
 than which happen there, where I am constantly. For 
 that reason because, as ye will be in report at my house, 
 to that degree I shall be in reputation out of doors. Some time 
 since indeed I heard that Philumena had taken a dis- 
 like of you 5 and it is not wonderful that it is so ; and if 
 she might not have done it, it would have been more won- 
 derful. But I have not believed to that effect, that she 
 could have hated also this whole house. Which mat- 
 ter if I could have known, she should stay here, and you 
 might have packed hence out of doors. But see how un- 
 
TEREMTI1 HECYRA. 205 
 
 deservedly this grievance arises to me from you, Sostrata. 
 I went to the country to dwell, giving place to you, and 
 slaving at riches ; not sparing my own labour, working 
 beyond what is right, and my time of life, that my property 
 might be able to bear your extravagancies and idleness ; did 
 it not become you for these things to have taken care that 
 I should not have any thing annoying? Sos. It came to 
 pass not with my effort, nor indeed with my fault. Lack, 
 Yes, it is very much with your fault. You should attend 
 to those things which were here, when I freed you from 
 other cares. Does it not shame you, an old woman, to have 
 entered into wrangles with a young girl? You will say that 
 it happened with her fault. Sos. I do not indeed say it, 
 my Laches. Lack. I rejoice, so may the gods love me, for 
 the sake of my son. For I well know, no real detriment 
 can happen from you indeed by your doing wrong. Sos. 
 How do you know, my husband, whether or no she may 
 have pretended to dislike me, for that reason that she might 
 be more along with her mother ? Lac//. What do you say? 
 Was not this proof enough, that yesterday no one was wil- 
 ling to admit you on a visit within the house to her? Sos. 
 But they said that she was very much tired j on that account 
 I was not admitted to her. Lack. I judge that your bad 
 ways are more a disease to her, than any other thing ; and 
 deservedly so ; for there is no one of you women, but can 
 wish your bon to take a wife ; and the condition which is 
 pleasing to you is granted ; when they have taken wives at 
 your suggestion, at your sollicitation they drive those same 
 women away from them (They stand aside.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Phidippus from his house-He turns about, the door 
 being open, and speaks to Philumena within.) 
 
 Phidippus. Although I know, Philumena, that the right 
 is mine to compel you to do what I may command, yet 
 softened by paternal feeling of mind, I will make myself 
 concede to you, nor will oppose your desire. (He turns 
 away and walks in front) Lach. And behold him ! I see 
 Phidippus most opportunely. Hence I shall know now, 
 what may be the matter. (Laches goes up to him) Phidippus, 
 although I know myself to be exceedingly obliging to all 
 my relations, yet I am not so much so, that my good-nature 
 may spoil their dispositions. But if you would do the same 
 
206 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 thing, it would be more both for my advantage and yours. 
 Now I see that you are in the power of these women. 
 Phid. Hey-day indeed ! Lack. I went to you yesterday 
 concerning your daughter. You sent me away doubtful so 
 as I came. It does not become you, if you wish this re- 
 lationship to be lasting, to conceal your displeasure. If 
 there is any fault from our side, shew it forth. We will 
 correct it for you all, either by refuting those words, or by 
 clearing away the fault, you yourself being the judge. But 
 if that is the cause of retaining her with you, because she is 
 sick, I think that you affront me, Phidippus, if you doubt 
 that she may be attended to carefully enough at my house. 
 But may the gods so love me, I do not grant this to you, 
 though you are her father, that you can wish her to be more 
 in health, than I do. That also for the sake of my son, 
 whom I have understood to exalt her not less than himself. 
 Nor in fact is it hid from me, how heavily I can believe 
 that he will bear it, if he shall have come to the knowledge 
 of this. On that account I am desirous that she may re- 
 turn home, before that he may come back. PJiid. Laches, 
 I have known your diligence, and kindness ; and convince 
 myself, that all things which you say are as you say ; and 
 am desirous that you believe me as to this; I am eager that 
 she may return to you, if I can effect it by any means. 
 Lack. What affair prevents you to do it ? Harkye, does 
 she accuse her husband at all ? Phid. By no means ; for 
 after that I urged her more, and began to compel her by 
 force to return, she solemnly affirms, that she cannot con- 
 tinue among you, Pamphilus being absent. Perhaps there 
 is a different failing to a different man ; 1 am born with a 
 soft disposition ; 1 cannot oppose my family. Lack, (call- 
 ing out to Soslrata who is behind J Hillo ! Sostrata hear 
 this « Sos. (coming up) Alas me miserable ! Lach. (to Phi- 
 dippusj Is that determined ? Phid, At present indeed it is 
 so, as it seems. But do you want me as to any thing more ? 
 For there is a matter as to which it behoves me now to go 
 over to the Forum. Lach. I go along with you (Exeunt 
 Laches and Phidippus at the back scene.) 
 
 ACT II. SCENE III. 
 
 (Sostrata — sola) 
 
 Sostrata. Really and truly we women are with equal 
 injustice all of us disliked by our husbands, on account of 
 
TETENTII HECYRA. 207 
 
 a few % who bring about that we all may seem worthy of evil 
 treatment. For may the gods so love me, I am clear of 
 fault as to that which my husband now accuses me. But it 
 is not an easy thing to be cleared ; they have so persuaded 
 their understanding, that all mothers-in-law are unjust. 
 It is not so really as to me indeed ; for I have never account- 
 ed her any other than if she might have been born of me. 
 Nor do I know how this matter may turn out to me ; but 
 truly I am now with much anxiety expecting my son, that 
 he may return home. {Exit Sostrata into her house.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE L 
 
 (Enter Pamphilus from the back scene, followed by Par- 
 meno. They advance to the front.) 
 
 Pamphilus. I do believe that more disagreeable things 
 have occured to no man at any time from love, than to me. 
 Alas ! me unhappy ! Have I avoided losing this life of 
 mine? Was I for this cause so strenuously desirous of re- 
 turning home ? To whom it had been how much more 
 eligible to pass my age any where in the world, than to re- 
 turn hither, and to find out that I am so miserable as to these 
 things. For as to all of us, on whom some hardship is 
 thrown from some quarter, all the intermediate time before 
 it hath been known is profit and gain. Par. But thus, by 
 coming here, you may the sooner find something by which 
 you may extricate yourself from these calamities. If you 
 might not have returned, these quarrels would have become 
 much greater. But now, Pamphilus, I know that both 
 those women will stand in awe of your arrival. You will 
 know the affair. You will take off anger. You will again 
 restore them to kindness. Those things which you have 
 imagined to be very oppressive, are light ones. Pam. Why 
 do you console me ? Whether or not, is any one where 
 in the world equally miserable ? Before that I married 
 her, I used to have my mind given up to love in another 
 place. At present, however I may be silent in this affair, 
 it is easy to be known to any one, how wretched I may 
 have been. Nevertheless I have never ventured to refuse 
 her, whom my father obtrudes upon me. I scarcely se- 
 parated myself from the other, and got free my mind so ob- 
 structed in that woman, and had scarce brought myself hi- 
 ther when forsooth a new affair arose, which moreover must 
 separate me from her. Then I judge that I shall find, in 
 
208 TRENTII HECYRA. 
 
 respect to that affair, 'my mother or my wife in fault ; which 
 when I shall have found to be so, what remains besides, un- 
 less that I be made miserable ? For duty, Parmeno, or- 
 ders me to bear the injuries of a mother. Then I am un- 
 der obligation to my wife ; she formerly bore with me so 
 with her mild disposition, and bore with so many injuries 
 of mine; which things she never exposed in anyplace. 
 But some great thing, I know not what, must needs 
 have happened, Parmeno, from whence a bickering has 
 got among them, which hath lasted so long. Par. But 
 indeed and verily it is some trifling thing. If you wish in 
 truth to make out a true account of it, those wrangles which 
 are sometimes very great, do not produce the greatest in- 
 juries. For it often is the case, another man is not enrag- 
 ed indeed in any affairs, when concerning the same cause 
 the passionate man is made most hostile. How boys carry 
 on quarrels among themselves for trifling faults ! For what 
 reason ? Because indeed they bear a weak mind, which 
 mind governs them. So in the same way those women are 
 almost as children, with a light way of thinking. Some 
 one word perhaps shall have stirred up this rage among 
 them. Pam. Go away, Parmeno, within-doors there, and 
 announce that I have come. {They approach Phidippus's 
 door, and a noise of women is heard from within.) Par. 
 Hah! What is this? Pam. Be silent. {Parmeno put his 
 ear to the door and listens.) Par. I perceive that they are 
 alarmed, and are hurrying about to and fro. Come on now, 
 approach nearer to the door. {Pamphilus goes up to the 
 door.) Hah ! Have you perceived it ? Pam. Do not 
 tell falsities, [a screeching within) O Jupiter ! I hear a 
 cry! Par. Are you yourself talking and dost forbid me? 
 {Myrrhina speaks within) Myr. Be silent, my daughter, I 
 beseech you ! Pam. This seemed to be the voice of the 
 mother of Philumena. I am annihilated. Par. Flow then ? 
 Pam. I have perished. Par. Wherefore? Pam. They 
 are indeed, Parmeno, concealing from me some great ca- 
 lamity, I know not what. Par. They said that your wife 
 Philumena dreaded I know not what. If that is by chance, 
 I do not know. Pam. I have expired. Why have you not 
 told me that before ? Par. Because I was not able to tell all 
 things at once. Pam. What disease is it? Par. I know not. 
 Pam. What ? Hath no one brought a physician ? Par. 
 I do not know. Pam. Do I delay to go hence in-doors, 
 that I may know in the first place this thing certain, what- 
 ever it is so ? O my Philumena, in what manner shall I 
 
TER1NTII HECYRA. *©9 
 
 now find you affected ? For if there is any danger in you 
 from disease, it is not doubtful that I have perkhed along 
 with you. (Pamphiius bursts opens Phidippus's door and 
 exit into the house.) Par. (solus) There is no use to me 
 now in the deed to follow him in-doors ; for I perceive 
 that all of us are disagreeable to them. Yesterday no one 
 was willing to admit Sostrata inside the doors. If by chance 
 the disease may have become stronger, which verily I can- 
 not wish, chiefly for the sake of my master, they will say at 
 once that Sostrata's servant went inside. They will feign 
 that he brought some mischief with him against their per- 
 sons and lives, whereby the disease may have been encreas- 
 ed. My mistress will come into accusation, and I truly 
 into great calamity. (Parmeno goes back.) 
 
 ACT. III. SCENE II. 
 
 (Enter Sostrata from her house.) 
 
 Sostrata. Wretched as I am I hear an uproar made here 
 for some time past I know not what. I sadly fear lest Phi- 
 lumena's disease may grow more heavy {raising her hands). 
 But I pray to you, O iEsculapius, and to you, O Salus, 
 that any thing of this sort may not be. Now I will go to 
 visit her. ( She moves towards Phidippus y s door J Par. {be- 
 hind) What ho ! Sostrata ! Sos. (looking round) Ah ! 
 hah ! Par. (advancing) You are again excluded from 
 thence. Sos. Hah ! Parmeno, were you here ? I have 
 perished* What shall I do wretched as I am ? May I 
 not visit the wife of Pamphiius, when she may be sick here 
 near at hand ? Par. May you not visit her ? You may not 
 even send any one for the sake of visiting her. For who- 
 ever loves that person to whom he himself is an object of 
 hatred, I hold him to act foolishly in two respects ; he him- 
 self undertakes a vain task, and brings inconvenience to 
 the other- Besides, your son went in as soon as he arriv- 
 ed, to see how she may do. Sos. What do you say ? Hath 
 Pamphiius arrived ? Par. He has arrived. Sosm I give 
 thanks to the gods. Well ! W T ith that word my courage 
 hath returned, and care hath gone away from my heart. 
 Par. Now for that very reason principally I do not wish 
 you at this time to enter hither ; for if the pains of Philu- 
 mena shall remit at all, she will tell all the affair, I know, 
 immediately, she alone to him alone, which hath happened 
 between you, and from whence the beginning of the strife 
 P 
 
210 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 arose (Phidippus's door opens.) And behold him, I observe 
 that he himself is going out of the house. How sorrowful 
 he is ! (Enter Pamphilus from Phidippuis house) Sos. 
 {going up to Pamphilus and taking his hand) O my son ! 
 Pam. O my mother, health to you ! Sos* I rejoice that 
 you have arrived safe. Is Philumena well in health ? Pam. 
 She is a little better. Sos. I wish that the gods may have 
 made it so ! (Pamphilus weeps) Why therefore do you shed 
 tears ? Or why are you so sad ? Pam. It is rightly said, 
 mother ; I am sad. Sos. What noise has there been there? 
 Tell me ; has pain suddenly attacked her ? Pam. So it 
 happened. Sos. What sort of disease is it ? Pam. A fever. 
 Sos. A quotidian fever ? Pam. So they say. I beseech 
 you to go in-doors, my mother, and I will follow you just 
 now, Sos. Let it be so. (Exit Sostrata into her house.) 
 Pam. Parmeno, run thou to meet the servant boys, and 
 help them as to their loads. Par. What? Do not they 
 know the way themselves, by which they may return home? 
 Pam. (sternly) Are you delaying, sir. (Exit Parmeno at 
 the back scene,) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE III. 
 
 Pamphilus— Solus. 
 
 Pamphilus. I cannot find any fit beginning of my affairs, 
 from whence I may commence telling those things which 
 happen to me not expecting them ; partly those which I 
 have seen with these eyes, and partly also those which I 
 have received with my ears ; in consequence of which I 
 brought myself the sooner out of doors in great distress. For 
 just now when I rushed in-doors in terror, imagining that 
 I was about to see my wife affected with a different disease 
 from what I perceived her to be, alas me ! The maid-ser- 
 vants, after that they saw that I had arrived, at once all 
 cry out together in joy, ■ he hath come;' and that was, be- 
 cause they had on a sudden beheld me. But immediately 
 I perceived the countenance of them all to be changed, be- 
 cause chance had brought my arrival so unopportunely to 
 them. One of them in the mean time hastily ran before, 
 announcing that I had come. Desirous of seeing her I 
 straightway follow her. After that I arrived inside, in 
 misery I knew immediately her disease. For neither did 
 time give any interval so that it could be concealed, nor 
 was she able to complain with a voice different from what 
 
TERENTII MECYAA. , .211 
 
 the reality impelled her. After that I saw her, I say, O 
 unworthy deed ! And at once rushed from thence weep- 
 ing, agitated by the incredible and atrocious affair. Her 
 mother follows me. I hastened now that I might pass out 
 at the threshold, and she falls at my knees, weeping and 
 wretched. I pitied her. This maxim is truly thus, as I 
 think, to us all as circumstances offer themselves, we are 
 high-minded now, and humble then. She began in the 
 commencement to make this request to me; O my Pam- 
 philus, you see the reason wherefore she may have depart- 
 ed from you. For violation was offered to the virgin some 
 time ago by a wicked man, I know not who ; now she hath 
 fled hither that she might conceal her lying in from you 
 and others. But when I recollect her earnest entreaties, I 
 cannot but shed tears in misery. And whatever the fortune 
 and chance is, says she, which brought you to us to-day, 
 by that fortune we both of us implore you, if it is right, if 
 it is possible, that her misfortunes may be covered and 
 hidden in silence by you among all people. If ever you 
 have perceived her to be of a mind friendly towards you, 
 my Pamphilus, she now asks you that you may without 
 difficulty grant her this favour in return for that. But 
 concerning the bringing her back, you can do that which 
 may be to your advantage. You alone are conscious that 
 she is bringing forth, and that she was not pregnant from 
 you. 
 
 (Eight lines omitted.) 
 You will have concealed the injury unworthily done to 
 that wretched woman. I gave my promise, and am de- 
 termined to keep the trust in that which I said to her. For 
 concerning the bringing back my wife, I judge that thing 
 in truth to be in no way honourable. Nor will I do it. 
 Although love, and the habit of being with her powerfully 
 possesses me. I weep when it comes into my mind, what 
 her life is about to be hereafter, and her lonely situation. O 
 fortune, that thou art never perpetually prosperous ! But 
 now a former love, which I then purposely dismissed, hath 
 made me experienced to carrying on this affair, and 1 the 
 same in love to Philumena will now give assistance to her. 
 (He looks towards the back scene) Parmeno is here with the 
 servant-boys. There is no need that he be present here 
 in this affair ; for formerly to him alone I confided, that 
 I had abstained from her in the beginning when she was 
 given to me. I am afraid, if he may hear her screeching 
 frequently here, lest he may understand that she is in la- 
 p 2 
 
212 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 bour. He must be sent away somwhere from hence, while 
 Philumena is bringing forth. (Pamphilus stands near 
 Phidippuis door,) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Parmeno from the back scene, with Sosia and 
 another boy carrying trunks on their shoulders.) 
 
 Parmeno (to Sosia) Do you say that this voyage was 
 disagreeable to you ? Sos. It cannot truly be said in words 
 so much, how disagreeable in reality it is, to sail in a ship. 
 Par. Is it so ? Sos. O fortunate you, thou knowest not 
 what evil you may have escaped, who never hast gone to 
 sea. For that I may omit other miseries, see this one 
 alone; I was on ship-board during thirty days, when in 
 the meantime in wretchedness I was always expecting death. 
 We constantly experienced a storm adverse to us. Par, 
 It is abominable ! Sos. It is not unknown to me. Lastly 
 indeed, I shall have run away rather than I may return, 
 if I were to know that I must return thither. Par. For- 
 merly indeed trifling causes drove you to do that which 
 you now threaten to do, Sosia. But I observe Pamphilus him- 
 self to stand before the door there. Go ye in-doors. (Sosia 
 and his comrade exeunt into Laches's house) I will go to 
 him, since he may want me as to something. (He goes 
 up to Pamphilus.) Master, are you now still standing here ? 
 Pam. In fact I am waiting for you. Par. What is the 
 matter ? Pam. There is need of passing across to the 
 Citadel. Par. To whom is there need to go? Pam. To 
 you. Par. To the Citadel ? Why there ? Pam. Meet 
 thou there Callidemides, a Myconian stranger, who was 
 carried in the ship along with me. Par. (aside) I am 
 lost. I may say that this master of mine has vowed, that 
 if ever he might have returned home, he would break me 
 up with walking. Pam. Why do you delay thus ? Par. 
 What do you wish I may say to him ? Shall I only meet 
 him ? Pam. Yes, tell him with regard to that which I 
 appointed that I would meet him to-day, that I cannot do 
 so, lest he may wait for me there in vain. Fly away. Par. 
 But I have not known the man's face. Pam. But I will 
 make a description so that you shall have known him. He 
 is tall, red, frizzled, fat, grey-eyed, with a cadaverous 
 face. Par. May the gods curse him ! What if he shall 
 not come ? Must I wait all day till evening ? Pam. 
 
TEIUENTH HECYRA. 213 
 
 Wait there. Run now. Par. (hobbling along) I cannot; 
 I am so fatigued. {Exit Parmeno at the hack Scene) Pom* 
 (solus) He hath departed. What shall I do,, wretched as 
 I am ? Altogether I know not by what means I can con- 
 ceal this matter, which Myrrhina entreated me to conceal* 
 to wit, the lying-in of her daughter; fori have pity of the 
 woman. I will do what I shall be able to do in this, 
 however I will take care to preserve my duty to my mother. 
 For it behoves me to serve a parent, rather than my love 
 to the woman, (he looks at the bach scene) Hah ! Hah ! 
 Behold him, I see Phidippus, and my father. They are 
 proceeding this way. I am undetermined what I shall 
 say to them. (Pamphilus stands aside.) 
 
 ACT III. SCENE V. 
 
 ( Enter Laches and Phidippus from the bach scene, and 
 advance to the front together* 
 
 Laches. Have you said just now that she mentioned she 
 expected my son ? Phid. It is a fact. Lach. They say 
 that he is come ; let her return. Pam. (behind) What 
 reason I shall allege to my father, why I can not bring her 
 back, I know not. Lach. (looking about) Whom have I 
 heard speaking here ? Pam. (behind) I am determined 
 that I persist in the way, which I have resolved to follow. 
 Lach. (to Phidippus) It is he himself concerning whom I 
 was transacting this matter with you. Pam. (coming up 
 to him) Health to you, my father ! Lach. Health to 
 you, my son 1 Phid. It happened well that you arrived, 
 Pamphilus, and also, which is the principal thing, safe and 
 stout. Pam. I believe so. Lach. Do you arrive just now ? 
 Pam. Exactly so. Lach* Tell me what hath Phania my 
 cousin left behind him ? Pam. In truth indeed he was a 
 man subservient to pleasure, while he lived ; and those that 
 are so, do not much gratify their heir. They leave be- 
 hind in fact this praise for themselves, ' he lived well while 
 he lived.' Lach. Then you therefore have brought nothing 
 hither more than one wise saying ? Pam. Whatever that 
 is which he hath left behind, it was of profit. Laclu Ve- 
 rily it was of damage, for I should wish that he was alive, 
 and well in health. Phid. It is possible for you to wish 
 for that safely, for now he will never revive. And not- 
 withstanding I know which you may prefer. Lach, (to 
 his soil) This man here yesterday ordered Philumena to be 
 
21 4" TEBENT1I HECYRA. 
 
 called to him (aside to Phidippus). Say that you ordered 
 it. Phid. (aside to Laches) Leave off digging at me. 
 (aloud) I certainly ordered it. Lack, {to his son) But he 
 will now send her back. Phid. To be sure. Pam. I 
 know all the affair, how it may have been carried on. Ar- 
 riving I heard all things. Lach. But may the gods curse 
 those malicious men, who tell these things so freely ! Pam. 
 I know that I have been cautious, lest any affront could 
 deservedly happen from you all ; and if I were willing to 
 relate it here now, of how faithful, and kind, and mild dis- 
 position I have been towards her, I truly can do so ; but 
 I may wish that you knew these things rather from her- 
 self; for by these means there will be confidence in the 
 greatest degree in you to my disposition, when she, who 
 now is unjust towards me, shall have said just things con- 
 cerning me. And I call the gods to witness as to that mat- 
 ter, that this disposition hath not come to pass with my 
 fault. But when she objects to my mother, that she is un- 
 worthy to whom she may stoop, and whose ways she may 
 bear with in her great delicacy ; and when reconciliation 
 cannot be settled between them by a contrary mode of 
 conduct, my mother is either to be separated from me, 
 Phidippus, or else Philumena. Now duty persuades me 
 rather to pursue the advantage of my mother. Lach. Pam- 
 philus, your speech hath reached my ears not unpleasantly, 
 when I find that you have thought all affairs of inferior 
 consequence compared to a parent. But take care, lest 
 impelled by anger you may be opposing us wrongfully, 
 Pamphilus. Pam, By what anger impelled can I now be 
 unjust towards her ? Who never deserved any thing with 
 respect to me, father, which I should be unwilling to see. 
 And I know that she has often had merit as to what I 
 would wish. And I love her, and like her, and vehe- 
 mently desire her. For I have experienced her to have 
 been wonderfully attached to me -, and I wish to her, 
 that she may pass away the rest of her life with that hus- 
 band, who may be more fortunate than me ; since neces- 
 sity drags her away from me. Phid. That matter is in 
 your power, that it may not happen. Lach. If you may 
 be in your senses, order her to return. Pam. It is not my 
 intention, father. I will serve the happiness of my mother. 
 (Pamphilus walks away) Lach. Where are you going ? 
 Stop ! Stop, I say ! Where are you going ? (Exit Pam- 
 philus imto his father's house.) Phid. What is this positive- 
 ness? Lach. Have I told you, Phidippus, that he would 
 
TERENTI1 HECYRA. 215 
 
 take ill this affair ? Wherefore I did entreat you, that 
 you would send your daughter back. Phid. In fact I 
 have not believed that he would be so inhuman ; and so 
 does he think now that I am about to supplicate him ? If 
 it is thus, that he may be willing to bring back his wife, 
 it is lawful for him ; but if he is of a different mind, let 
 him count back her portion hither, and march off. Lack. 
 But behold, you also are frowardly passionate. Phid, 
 You have returned here to us, Pamphilus, very insolent 
 indeed ! Lack. This anger of his will go away just now ; 
 although he is deservedly enraged. Phid. Because a little 
 money has come in to you all, your minds are elated. 
 Lach. Are you also fighting with me ? Phid, Let him 
 deliberate, and send me back word to-day, whether he 
 be willing, or not; that another may have her, if he may 
 not have her. (Phidippus walks away) Lach. Phidippus, 
 come here; listen to a few words. (Exit Phidippus into 
 his house) He hath gone away. What is it to me ? At 
 the last let themselves act among themselves, as it pleases 
 them; since neither my son, nor this man mind me in 
 any respect ; and little regard what I say. I am to carry 
 this squabble to my wife, by whose advice all these things 
 are done; and I will vomit out upon her all this matter 
 which sickens me. {Exit Laches into his house, thumping 
 his stick in great anger.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 (Enter Myrrhina /ro/w her house.) 
 
 Myrrhina. I have perished ; what shall I do ? Where 
 shall I turn myself? What shall I answer to my husband, 
 wretched as I am ? For he seemed to have heard the voice 
 of the child crying, he so suddently rushed in silence to 
 our daughter. But if he shall have found out that she has 
 lain in, I truly do not know, for what reason I shall say 
 that I kept it secret (a noise at her door.) But the door 
 hath rattled; I do believe that he himself is going out to 
 seek me ; I am annihilated. (Enter Phidippus from his 
 house) Phid. (to himself) When my wife perceived me to 
 go to my daughter, she took herself out of doors. And 
 behold I see her (he goes up to her). Myrrhina, what are 
 you saying ? (She seems not to hear) Harkye, I am speak- 
 ing to you. Myr. To me, my husband ? Phid. Am I 
 your husband ? Do you account me therefore your husband* 
 
216 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 or even a man? For if I might have ever seemed to you 
 either of these, I should not have been held in contempt 
 with these deeds of yours. Myr. What deeds ? Phid. 
 But do you ask ? Our daughter hath lain in (a pause) 
 Hah ! Are you silent ? From whom hath she lain in ? 
 Myr. Is it proper that a father should ask that? I am 
 ruined by the enquiry. From whom do you think, unless 
 from him to whom she was married, I pray ? Phid. I 
 believe so ; nor for that matter is it the part of a father 
 to judge otherwise. But I wonder much, what the cause 
 may be, wherefore you may have been willing so ear- 
 nestly to conceal this lying-in from us all ; especially since 
 she may have lain in both rightly, and in her proper time. 
 Can it be, that you were of so perverse a mind, that could 
 rather wish the child to perish, from whom you might 
 know that friendship hereafter will be firmer amongst us, 
 rather than against the whim of your mind the bride should 
 be with her husband ? I also believed this fault to be 
 theirs, which is along with you. Myr. I am wretched. 
 Phid. I wish I may know it to be thus ! But now it comes 
 into my mind what you said formerly concerning this af- 
 fair, when we took him as a son-in-law. For you did deny 
 that you could suffer your married daughter to be with 
 him, who should love a harlot, with whom he would pass 
 the night abroad. Myr. I had rather suspect any cause as 
 to him, than that very cause to be the true one. Phid. I 
 knew long before you did, Myrrhina, tha't he had a mis- 
 tress. But I was of opinion, that that was never a crime 
 to youthful age, for that principle is innate in all men. 
 But indeed, thought^, he will immediately be with her, 
 when really and truly he shall be vexed with himself. But 
 as formerly you shewed yourself to be the same as now, 
 you have never ceased all along to this time to keep away 
 our daughter from him, lest that which I might have trans- 
 acted, should be ratified. In what way you may have 
 wished it to have happened, this affair now discovers. Myr. 
 Do you think me to be so perverse, that I should be of 
 that disposition towards her, to whom I may be mother, 
 if this match could be advantageous to us ? Phid. Are 
 you able to look forward, or to judge what may be to our 
 prosperity ? You hear a tale from some one perhaps, 
 who might say that he had seen him going in to his mistress. 
 What then afterwards, if he did this decently, and seldom ? 
 Is it not more humane, that we should seem not to know 
 those things, than to strive to know that, for which he will 
 
TRENTII HECYRA. 217 
 
 hate us ? For if he could very suddenly drag himself away 
 from her, with whom he might have associated during so 
 many years, I would not think him a man, nor a hus- 
 band sufficiently steady for our daughter. Myr. Leave 
 off talking of the young man, I beg, and those things 
 which you say that I failed in ; and go away, and you 
 alone meet him. Ask him, whether he may be willing to have 
 his wife, or not ? If it is so, that he may say he is willing, 
 give her back to him. But if it is so, that he may be un- 
 willing, I have rightly advised my daughter. Phid. If 
 indeed he himself is not willing, and you perceived that 
 there was wrong behaviour in him, Myrrhina, I was near 
 at hand, by whose advice it had been proper that those 
 things should be looked to. Wherefore I am fired with 
 anger, that you have dared to do these things without my 
 orders. I now forbid, and you must not be willing to have 
 carried out the child any where outside the the house. 
 (aside) But I am very foolish, who can require this wo- 
 man to obey my words. I will go in-doors, and give or- 
 ders to the servants, that they may not suffer it to be car- 
 ried out any where. (Exit Phidippus into his house) Myr. 
 (sola) I do really believe that no woman lives more wretch- 
 ed than me. For in truth it is not hid from me, how he 
 will bear this matter, if he shall have found out the affair 
 itself, in what way it may be; since he hath borne this, 
 which is a lighter matter, with so passionate a mind. Nor 
 do I know, by what way his opinion can be changed. This 
 one misfortune had been left to me out of very many mi- 
 series, if he compels me to take up the child, of which we 
 are ignorant who may be the father. For when my daugh- 
 ter was violated, the person of the ravisher could not be 
 known in the darkness, nor was any thing taken away from 
 him then, by which it could afterwards be known, who he 
 may be. He himself, going away, snatched by force a ring 
 from the virgin, which she had on her finger. But also I 
 fear Pamphilus, lest he may not be able any longer to con- 
 ceal our matters that we entreated of him, when he shall 
 know, that the child belonging to another is raised up for 
 his own. (Exit Myrrhina into her house.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE II. 
 
 {Enter Sostrata and Pamphilus from Laches's house.) 
 
 Sostrata* It is not unknown to me, my son, that I have 
 
 t 
 
218 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 been suspected by you, that your wife departed hence on 
 account of my manners ; although you diligently conceal 
 these things. But may the gods so love me, and may my 
 wishes come to pass in respect to you, but I never con- 
 sciously deserved that hatred of me should justly take 
 possession of her ; and before that I supposed you to love 
 me, you confirmed your belief to that circumstance. For 
 your father within told me just now, in what manner you 
 have accounted me to be preferred to that love of yours. 
 Now I have determined on the other hand to mention a 
 favour to you, that you may know that a reward for your 
 pious duty is placed in my power. My Pamphilus, I judge 
 this thing convenient both for you, and my own reputation ; 
 and I have fixed for certain that I will go away hence to 
 the country with your father, lest my presence may be a 
 hindrance, and lest any other preventive cause may re- 
 main, but that your Philumena may return to you. Pain, 
 I beseech you, what sort of plan is that? Her folly being 
 conquered, must you emigrate from the city to the country 
 to dwell? You shall not do it; nor will I suffer, mother, 
 that any one who may be willing to abuse us, may say 
 that it was done by my positiveness, and not by your for- 
 bearance. Besides I am unwilling that you forsake your 
 female friends and relations, and days of festivity for my 
 sake. Sos. Those things really bring me not circumstances 
 of pleasure now. While the time of life suffered it, I par- 
 took of them sufficiently. A satiety of those wishes now 
 possesses, me. This is now to me my greatest anxiety, that 
 my length of life may not be a hindrance to any one, or 
 any one expect my death. I see that I am disliked undeser- 
 vedly here ; it is time to step out of the way. Thus, in the 
 best manner, as I think, I shall remove all causes of hatred 
 from all; and I shall free myself from this suspicion, and shall 
 have complied with them. Permit me, I beg, to avoid 
 this, as to which the generality of women is badly reported 
 of. Pan?. How fortunate am I in other things, were it 
 without this one circumstance, having this my mother of 
 such quality, and that wife besides. Sos. I beseech you my 
 Pamphilus, will not you persuade yourself to suffer an in- 
 convenient circumstance, whatever it is, if other matters 
 are so as you wish, and she is so as I estimate her to be. O 
 my son, give this consent to me, and bring her back. Pam. 
 Woe to wretched me ! Sos, And to me indeed ! for 
 this affair does not less afflict me than you, O my son. (Pam. 
 philus stands aside.) 
 
TETENTII HECYRA. 219 
 
 ACT. IV. SCENE III. 
 
 (Enter Laches from his house.) 
 
 Laches, {to Sostrata) Standing at a distance from hence, 
 wife, I overheard the conversation which you may have 
 had with him. That is wisdom, by which you may be able 
 to bend the disposition of a man whenever there is need ; 
 and if you can have effected this same thing now, which 
 must be done perhaps afterwards. Sos. The chance may 
 be so indeed. Lack. Go away hence therefore to the 
 country; there I will endure you, and you will endure 
 me. Sos. I hope so indeed. Lach. Go in-doors therefore, 
 and get together those things which may be carried at the 
 same time with you. I have said it. Sos. I will do so as 
 you order. [Exit Sostrata into her house.) Pam. (advancing) 
 O my father ! Lach. What do you want, Pamphilus ? 
 Pam. Is it so, that my mother goes away from home ? 
 There is no need. Lach. Why do you wish that so? 
 Pam. Because I am uncertain still concerning my wife, 
 what I may be about to do. Lach. What is it? What 
 do you wish to do, unless to bring her back ? Pam. In 
 truth 1 am desirous of it, and am scarce restrained from it, 
 but I will not swerve from my resolution. That which is 
 advantageous I will follow. I believe that those women 
 will agree in kindness together, if I shall not bring her 
 back, on that very account. Lach. You may not know 
 that. But it signifies nothing to you, whether they may 
 have done it, when she will have gone away. This time 
 of life to young women is disagreeable. It is right to go 
 out of the way. Lastly, we are now mere nothings, Pam- 
 philus, an old man and an old woman [he looks at Phidip- 
 pus' s door.)But I observe Phidippus to go out opportunely. 
 Let us accost him. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 (Enter Phidippus from his house. He turns about, the 
 door being open, and speaks to Philumena within. 
 
 Phidippus. I am angry also really with you, Philumena, 
 and heavily indeed; for certainly it has been done by you 
 basely. Although you have a plea concerning this a'ffair ; 
 your mother drove you on. She in truth has no plea, (he 
 turns from the door, and walks on) Lach. {going up to Phi- 
 
220 teRentii hecyra. 
 
 dippus) Opportunely you shew yourself to me, Phidippus* 
 in the very time. Phid- What is it ? Pam. (aside) What 
 shall I answer them ? Or in what manner shall I make 
 known this matter? Lack, (to Phidippus) Tell your 
 daughter that Sostrata is about to go hence to the country, 
 lest she may be afraid, in a way that she may not now re- 
 turn home. Phid. Ah ! Your wife hath deserved no blame 
 about these affairs. All these things have arisen from my 
 wife Myrrhina. A change is made, and she very much 
 disturbs us, Laches. Pam. (aside) As long as I bring her 
 not back, let them make a disturbance besides, as much as 
 they may wish. Phid. (to Pamphilus) I am willing, Pam- 
 philus, that this connection be really perpetual between us, 
 if it can be done. But if it is the case, that your opinion 
 may be otherwise, you must receive the child. Pam. (aside) 
 He has perceived that she has brought forth. I am lost. 
 Lack, (to Phidippus in surprise) The child? What child? 
 Phid. A grandson is born to us ; for my daughter had 
 been taken away from you pregnant ; nor knew I ever that 
 6hewas pregnant before this day. Lack. So may the gods 
 love me you bring good tidings ; and I rejoice that it is 
 born, and that she is safe to you. But what of a woman 
 have you as a wife? Or with what morals endued ? That 
 we should have been kept in ignorance as to this so 
 long ? I cannot enough proclaim, how wrongly done this 
 thing seems to me. Phid. That fact pleases you not less 
 than me, Laches. Pain, (aside) Even if this matter had 
 been doubtful to me a while ago, it is not so now, since 
 another man's child follows her. Lack, (turning to Pam- 
 philus) Here is no deliberation for you now, Pamphilus. 
 Pam. (aside) I have perished. Lach. We often wished 
 to see this day, when there would be some one sprung 
 from you, who might call you father. It hath come to 
 pass. I am thankful to the gods. Pam. I am annihilated. 
 Lach. Bring back your wife, and leave off opposing me. 
 Pam. Father, if she could wish to herself to have children 
 from me, or that she was in wedlock with me, I know 
 very surely, she would not disguise from me those things 
 which I understand that she has concealed. Now when 
 I can perceive that her mind is estranged from me, nor 
 am to judge that we shall agree together hereafter, where- 
 fore may I bring her back ? Lach. The young woman 
 did what her mother persuaded her to do. Is that to be 
 wondered at ? Do you think that you can find any wo- 
 man, who may be free from fault ? Whether because men 
 
TERKNTII HECYRA. 221 
 
 are not delinquents ? Phid. Ye yourselves now, Laches, 
 and you, Pamphilus, look to this, whether she must needs 
 be rejected by you, or brought back home. What your 
 wife may do, is not my business. In neither case, will ye 
 have difficulty from me. But what shall we do concern- 
 ing the child ? Lack, You ask ridiculously. Whatever 
 is about to be, you must give it to him, his own child surely, 
 that we may support our own bantling. Pam. Shall I 
 support a child which the father himself has neglected ? 
 Lack, What have you said ? Aha ! Shall we not 
 support it, Pamphilus ? Shall we expose it rather, 
 prithee? What is this infatuation? Really and truly 
 altogether I cannot now be silent. For you compel me to 
 speak those things which I am unwilling, he being pre- 
 sent. Do you think that I am ignorant of those tears of 
 yours ? Or what that may be, which you can be troubled 
 about to this degree ? In the first place, when you men- 
 tioned this reason, that you could not have this wife at 
 home on account of your mother, she promised, that she 
 will go out of the way from the house. Now, after that 
 you see this reason taken away from you also, you have 
 got another, because the child was born unknown to you. 
 You mistake if you think that I am ignorant of your mind. 
 How long a time gave I to you of loving a mistress, that 
 you may at length at some time draw off your inclination 
 hither ? With how contented^a mind I bore the expences, 
 which you caused for that mistress ? I urged and begged 
 of you that you would marry. I said that it was the pro- 
 per time. You married with my persuasion. Those things 
 which, having complied with me, you did at that time, 
 were as it had become you to do. Now you have again 
 brought your mind to the harlot ; whom having gratified, 
 you are doing injury thus to her your wife. For I see 
 that you are rolled back again into the same way of life. 
 Pam. Me indeed ? Lack. You yourself; and you are do- 
 ing an injury. You are fabricating false reasons to a 
 separation ; that you may live with her, when you shall 
 have removed away from you this wife, a witness to it. And 
 your wife so felt it, for what other cause was there to her, 
 why she should depart from you ? Phid. He guesses the 
 thing evidently ; for it is that. Pam. I will give my oath 
 to you, that there is nothing of these things. Lack. Ah ! 
 Bring back your wife ; or tell me, why there may be no 
 need. Pam. Now is not the time. Lack. You must re- 
 ceive the child ; for it indeed is not in fault. After- 
 
222 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 wards I shall have seen about the mother. Pam. (aside) 
 In all my ways I am wretched ; nor do I know what I shall 
 do ; my father besets wretched me at this time with so ma- 
 ny affairs. I will go away from hence, since present I do 
 little good. For I believe he will not take up the child 
 without my orders, particularly when the mother-in-law 
 may be an assistant to me in that affair. (Pamphilus 
 walks away) Lack. Are you flying away ? nor reply to 
 me any thing certain ? [exit Pamphilus into Laches's house*) 
 Does he seem to you to be in his senses ? Let him alone. 
 Phidippus, give the child to me. I will support it. Phid. 
 Most certainly. My wife hath not done any thing won- 
 derful, if she took ill this matter. Women are bitter ; they 
 do not bear these things easily. This quarrel is on that 
 account ; for she herselftold me so. I had been unwilling 
 to tell that to you, he being present. Nor did I believe 
 her at first. Now in truth it is well known. For altogether 
 I see that his mind is abhorrent from the nuptials. Lach, 
 What therefore may I do, Phidippus ? What sort of coun- 
 sel do you give me ? Phid. What may you do ? I think 
 that this harlot is to be visited in the first place. Let 
 us entreat her. Let us accuse her very heavily. Lastly, 
 let us threaten her, if she shall have had intercourse with 
 him afterwards. Lach. I will do as you advise (he goes to 
 his door, and calls) What ho ! Boy ! (enter a servant- 
 boy) Run to this Bacchis our neighbour ; call her out 
 hither to a conversation with me. (Exit boy at the side 
 scene.) And moreover I entreat you, that you may be an 
 assistant to me in this affair. Phid. Ah ! I have already 
 told you, and I now say the same thing, Laches, I wish 
 this affinity to remain between us, if by any means it is 
 possible that it can ; which 1 hape will be the case. But 
 are you willing that I be present along with you, while 
 you meet her. Lach. Verily and truly march away. Get 
 some nurse for the child. (Exit Phidippus at the side scene ; 
 Laches stands aisde.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE V. 
 
 (Enter Bacchis from the side scene with two maid- servants.) 
 
 Bacchis. This not for nothing that Laches desires me 
 now to be met ; nor am I much deceived, but the thing 
 which he may wish for, may be what I suspect. Lach- 
 
TERENTII HECYRA. 223 
 
 {aside} I must see, lest on account of this quarrel I may 
 obtain less than I may be able ; or lest I may do any 
 thing more in effect as to which afterwards it may be bet- 
 ter that I had done less. I will accost her. (he advances) 
 Bacchis, health to you ! Bac % Health to you, Laches ! 
 Lack. I believe truly, that you somewhat wonder, Bacchis, 
 what it can be, wherefore I ordered the boy to call you hi- 
 ther out of doors. Bac. I indeed also am even in terror, 
 when it comes into my mind, who I may be, lest the name 
 of my profession may harm me. For I readily defend 
 before you my other morals. Lack. If you say true things, 
 there is no danger to you from me, woman, for I am now 
 in that time of life, that it may not be just that pardon be 
 given to my wrong doing; for which reason I^the more cau- 
 tiously attend to all affairs, that I may not rashly trans- 
 act them. For if you act, or are about to act, as it is 
 proper that good women should do, it is unjust that I 
 should unbecomingly offer an insult to you undeserving. 
 Bac. In truth I have much thanks to give to you concern- 
 ing that matter ; for it can be of little advantage to me, 
 after an injury done, how it may be cleared up. But what 
 is that matter ? Lack. You receive my son Pamphilus to 
 you. Bac. Hah ! Lack. Permit me to tell you this. Before 
 that he espoused his wife, I put up with your love- (Bac- 
 chis walks away in agitation) Wait ! I have not as yet 
 even said that which I wished to say. He now has a 
 wife. Seek thou another man more steady to you, while 
 there is opportunity of devising the means. For neither 
 will he be of this disposition during a length of time. 
 Bac Who says that concerning me ? Lack. His mother- 
 in-law. Bac. Does she say this as to me ? Lack. You 
 yourself; and she has carried away her daughter. And on 
 account of that circumstance, has been willing secretly to 
 destroy the child which hath been born. Bac. If I could 
 know any thing else more sacred than an oath, by which 
 I could strenghten my credit with you all, I could affirm 
 that to you, Laches, that I have had Pamphilus separated 
 from me as soon as he married. Lach. You are a cle- 
 ver woman. But do you know, I beg, what I wish you 
 may farther do ? Bac. What, tell me. Lach. That you 
 may go in-doors hither to the women, and affirm that same 
 oath to them. Satisfy their minds, and free yourself from 
 this accusation. Bac* I will do that ; what indeed I know 
 another woman, if she were of this occupation, would not 
 do ; that she should shew herself to a married woman for 
 
2 24 TERENTII HECYRA. 
 
 such a reason. But I am unwilling that your son should 
 be suspected by a false report, and I do not wish that he 
 seem undeservedly more giddy to you all, to whom it is 
 by no means right that he mayseem so; for he has deserv- 
 ed from me, that I may do him service, as far as I can be 
 able. Lack. Your language hath now made me kind, and 
 well-inclined to you ; for not these women alonejudged in 
 that way, I also even believed the affair. Now since I 
 have found you to be beyond my opinion of you, make 
 yourself to be the same good woman in continuation ; and 
 make use of my friendship, as you shall wish. If you do 
 
 otherwise 1 will restrain myself, lest you may hear any 
 
 thing grievous from me. But I admonish you as to this 
 one thing ; that you make the trial what sort of a friend I 
 may be, or what I can do as a friend, rather than an enemy. 
 — (Laches and Bacchis stand back in seeming conversation.) 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE VI. 
 
 (Enter Phidippus at the side scene , and a Nurse following 
 him.) 
 
 Phid. {to the nurse) I will suffer nothing to be wanting 
 to you at my house, but that every thing which can be 
 necessary, may be kindly afforded. But when you shall 
 be glutted and drunk, take care that the child may be full. 
 (Exit Nurse into Phidippus's house. J Lach. [behind) Our 
 father-in law has come, I see; he brings a nurse for the 
 child. {He goes up to Phidippus) Bacchis takes a solemn 
 oath most sacredly concerning that, Phidippus. Phid, 
 [pointing to Bacchis) Is this she ? Lach, This is she. Phid^ 
 Those bad women do not indeed fear the gods ; nor do I 
 think that these women here respect the gods. Bac. I 
 give up these maid-servants ; through my permission search 
 out the truth with whatever torture it pleases you. This 
 affair now is in performance here ; it behoves me to effect, 
 that Pamphilus's wife may return ; which if I bring to pass, 
 it repenteth not me of the reputation, that I alone have 
 done that, which other harlots avoid to do. Lach. Phi- 
 dippus, we find in the thing itself, that our women have been 
 falsly suspected by us. Moreover let us now try this wo- 
 man. For if your wife shall have found out, that she has 
 been too credulous to the accusation, she will dismiss her 
 anger ; but if indeed my son is angry on account of that 
 circumstance, that his wife lay in secretly, that is a trivial 
 
TERENTII HECYRA. 225 
 
 matter. This anger will soon depart from him; Really 
 there is nothing of evil in this affair, that may be worthy of 
 a separation. Phid. In truth I may wish so indeed. Lack. 
 Examine her. She is present. She herself will do that 
 which may be satisfactory. Phid. Why do you say those 
 things to me ? Whether because you have not yourself 
 a short time ago heard, how my mind may be about this 
 affair, Laches ? Only satisfy those women. Laclu I 
 beg truly, Bacchis, that you yourself may make good, 
 that which you promised to me. Bac. On account of 
 that affair therefore are you willing that I may go inside 
 the house ? Lack. Go, and satisfy their minds, that they 
 may believe the matter. Bac. I go there ; although I 
 know truly that the sight of me will be hateful to them to- 
 day. For a married woman, when she is separated from 
 he husband, is an enemy to a harlot. Lach. But these 
 women will be friendly to you, when they shall know, on 
 what account you may have come. Phid. But I promise 
 to you, that those same women will be friendly, when 
 they shall have known the affair ; for you will free them 
 from a mistake, and yourself at the same time from suspi- 
 cion. Bac. I am lost; it shameth me of meeting Philumena. 
 (turns to the maid-servants) Follow me both of you within- 
 doors. (Bacchis and her maids exeunt into Phidippus's 
 house, and Phidippus follows them, and exit) Lach. ( solus) 
 What is there which I may wish for, rather than what 
 I perceive to happen to her, that she can get into favour 
 without cost of her own, and be advantageous to me ? 
 For if it is the case, that she may have now disunited Pam- 
 philus in reality from her, she knows that nobleness has 
 sprung from that, and property, and glory. She will con- 
 for a favor or him, and with one and the same endeavour 
 will join us as friends to herself. (Exit Laches into his 
 house.) 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 {Enter PARMENoyro/rc the back Scene.) 
 
 Parmeno. Indeed and truly my master reckons my ser- 
 vices to be of little value, who sent me on no business at 
 all ; and to a place where I sat down during the whole day, 
 while I am waiting for the Myconian stranger Callidemides 
 in the Citadel. And so, while I am sitting there to-day like 
 a fool, as soon as each and every one had advanced, I used 
 2 
 
226 TRENTII HECYRA. 
 
 to go up to them ; I said to each in turn, young man, 
 tell me now I beg, are you a Myconian ? I am not, 
 says he. But are you CalJidemides? No, he says. Have 
 you any friendly host here by name Pamphilus ? They 
 all denied it; nor do I think that any one is he. At last veri- 
 ly now it did shame me. I went away (Phidippus's door 
 is opened). But why do I see Bacchis going out from 
 our relation ? What business has she here ? {Enter 
 Bacchis from Phidippus's house) Bac. You offer yourself 
 opportunely, Parmeno. Run hastily to Pamphilus. Par. 
 Why thither ? Bac. Say that I entreat him to come. 
 Par. To you ? Bac. Yes, to Philumena. Par. What 
 business is it? Bac. Leave off asking about that which 
 does not relate to you. Par. Shall I say nothing else ? 
 Bac, Yes, that Myrrhina has known that ring to have 
 been her daughter's, which he himself had formerly given 
 to me. Par. I know. Is it that only ? Bac. Only that. 
 He will be here immediately, when he shall have heard 
 this thing from you. But do you delay ? Par. By no 
 means truly. For to-day the power of delaying has not 
 been given me ; with so running about, and walking, I 
 have worn away the whole day {Exit Parmeno into Laches's 
 house). 
 
 ACT V. SCENE II. 
 
 Bacchis — Sola. 
 
 Bacchis. How great a matter of joy have I offered to 
 Pamphilus to-day by my coming here ! What prosperous 
 circumstances have I brought to him ! Besides too, how 
 many cares have I removed away I I restore to him a 
 son, who with the endeavour of these women and him- 
 self had nearly perished. I restore to him a wife, whom 
 he thought that he never afterwards was about to possess. 
 I have freed him from the circumstance, with which he was 
 under suspicion to his father and to Phidippus (She draws 
 a ring from her finger, and looks at it). What is more, 
 this ring was a beginning in rinding out these affairs. For 
 I remember that he, about ten months ago, fled in haste 
 to me at my house, out of breath, without a companion, 
 and full of wine, with this ring. I at once became alarmed. 
 I say to him, my Pamphilus, why are you exhausted, my 
 dear, I beseech you, tell me ? Or whence have you got 
 that ring? Declare to me, He began to converse on 
 
TERENTII HECYRA. 227 
 
 other matters, and to prevaricate. After seeing this, I 
 began to suspect I know not what, and to urge him more, 
 that he may tell it me. The man confessess that in the 
 highway he had deflowered by force a woman I know not 
 whom ; and says, that he had dragged away from her a 
 ring, while she is struggling; this Myrrhina just now dis- 
 covered me having that ring on my finger. She asks from 
 whence it may be. I mentioned all these things to her. 
 From thence is made a discovery, that Philumena was 
 violated by him, and that this son was born from thence. 
 That these so many joys have happeened to him on ac- 
 count of me, I am rejoiced. Although other harlots wish 
 not this thing ; for it is not to our profit, that any one 
 who is a lover may be happy with nuptials. But and in- 
 deed I will never bring my mind to bad doings for the 
 sake of profit. I always found Pamphilus, while it was 
 lawful for me to be with him, kind, and clever, and 
 mild-tempered. It hath happened disadvantageously to 
 me with these nuptials, I confess the fact. But real- 
 ly I think that I have acted so, that the circumstance 
 should come to pass to me without my fault. It is proper 
 to bear the disadvantages of that event, from which 
 many great advantages may have arisen to others (Bac~ 
 chis stands aside near Phidippus's door J, 
 
 ACT V. SCENE III. 
 
 {Enter Pamphilus and Parmeno from Laches's house,) 
 
 Pamphilus. Take care, my Parmeno, I earnestly be- 
 you, that you may have brought these things to me cer- 
 tain and clear; lest you may induce me to possess this 
 false joy for this short time. Par. I have taken care. 
 Pam. Certainly so ? Par. Certainly. Pam. If this is so, 
 I am an immortal. Par, You will find it true. Pam. 
 Wait awhile I pray you. I fear lest I may believe one 
 thing, and you may bring tidings of another. Par. I am 
 waiting quietly. Pam. I think that you said thus ; that 
 Myrrhina had found, that Bacchis had her ring. Par, It 
 is the fact. Pam. That which I formerly gave to her ? 
 And hath she ordered you to bring word of this to me ? 
 Is the fact so ? Par, I say, it is so. Pam, Who is more 
 happy than me, and on that account more full of come- 
 liness ? How may I reward you for these tidings? How? 
 How ? I know not. Par. But I know. Pam. How ? 
 
228 TERENT1I HECYRA. 
 
 Par. Not at all ; for neither in the tidings, nor in myself, 
 do I know what good there may be to you. Pam. Shall 
 I suffer you, who may have brought me back, when a dead 
 man, from death into life, to depart from me without re- 
 ward ? Ah ! You think me too ungrateful. But behold 
 her, I perceive Bacchis to stand before the door. She is 
 waiting for me, I believe. Bac. (coming up to him) Health 
 to you, Pamphilus ! Pam. O Bacchis, O my Bacchis, 
 my preserver ! Bac. It hath happened well, and delights 
 me. Pam. You make me to believe these facts, and thus 
 you acquire your former comeliness, so that your meeting 
 one, your discourse, your arrival, whereever you may have 
 come, must be always a pleasure to me. Bac. But you 
 really retain your former manner and disposition, so that 
 no one man of all men ever can be alive, more complaisant 
 than you. Pam. (laughing) Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! Do you 
 say that to me ? Bac. Pamphilus, thou hast rightly lov- 
 ed that wife of thine; for I had never seen her with my 
 eyes, as far as I might have known, before this day. She 
 seemed to me a very elegant woman. Pam. Tell the truth. 
 Bac. So may the gods love me, Pamphilus. Pam. Tell 
 me whether you have said any thing of these affairs now 
 to my father ? Bac. Nothing* Pam. Nor is there need. 
 Therefore be mute. It does not please me that this thing 
 be done in the same manner as in comedies, where all the 
 characters come to the knowledge of all things. Here, 
 those whom it had been proper to know things, know them; 
 but they, whom it is not proper to know them, shall nei- 
 ther come to the knowledge of things, nor know them. Bac. 
 But besides, I will inform you of that, by which you may 
 believe that this circumstance may be more readily hid- 
 den ; Myrrhina said to Phidippus thus, that she had faith 
 in my oath, and on that account that you were cleared to 
 her. Pam. It is excellent well ; and I hope that this af- 
 fair is about to turn out to us according to our wishes, 
 (Exit Bacchis at the side scene.) Par. Master, is it lawful 
 to know from you, what good thing it may be, which. 
 I have done to-day ? Or what is that, which ye are 
 treating of ? Pam. It is not lawful. Par, Neverthless I 
 suspect. Have I brought back this man, when dead, 
 from the grave ? In what manner ? Pam. You know 
 not, Parmeno, how much you may have profited me to- 
 day, and from how great a calamity you may have delivered 
 me. Par. Verily and truly I know it, nor have I done 
 this thing in ignorance. Pam. I know that sufficiently. 
 
TERENTII HECYRA. 229 
 
 Par. Whether can any thing folishly pass by Parmeno, 
 as to which there may be use in its being done ? Pam. 
 Follow me in-doors, Parmeno. Par. I follow you [Exit 
 Pamphilus into Phidippus's house). Really I have done 
 more good to-day in ignorance, than ever before this day 
 in a state of knowledge. {To the audience) Clap ye your 
 hands. 
 
SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF TERENCE. 
 
 PUB. TERENTIUS, an African, born in Carthage, 
 was a slave at at Rome to Lucanus a Senator, by whom he 
 was much favored and well treated on account of his cle- 
 verness and handsome appearance, and after a short ser- 
 vitude made free and dismissed from slavery. He was no- 
 ticed by many noble Romans, to whom probably he was 
 introduced by his former master, and was received by 
 them on terms of familiarity, but was particularly patro- 
 nised by Scipio Africanus, and by Lselius. 
 
 Terence wrote six comedies ; he was ordered to read 
 the first of these, the Andria, when it was presented to the 
 iEdiles, before Caecilius at, supper. As he was "meanly 
 clad, he sat down on a stool near the couch at the end of 
 the table, and began to read the play. Before he had 
 read many lines, he was desired to sup at the table as a 
 guest ; he afterwards read the remainder of the play before 
 Caecilius, who was in great admiration at it, and astonish- 
 ment. Terence produced before the public the Andria, 
 and five more comedies, all of which were approved of by 
 the people. 
 
 The Eunuchus was acted at two different periods, and 
 brought him in a sum of money very great, and such as no 
 other comedy of any writer had ever produced before. 
 The opening scene of the Adelphi, which certainly is 
 remarkably fine, is preferred by Varro to the beginning 
 of Menander's comedy, from which it was taken. Two 
 of his plays are said to have been translated from Apollo- 
 dorus, viz. The Phormio and Hecyra ; the other four 
 from Menander. Of all these the Eunuch met with the 
 greatest success, and was rewarded with the highest remu- 
 neration. The Hecyra was seldom acted. 
 
 It was said that Terence was assisted in writing his 
 comedies, by Lselius and Scipio, with whom he lived in 
 intimacy and friendship. He himself favored that report, 
 for in the prologue of the Adelphi he writes thus : 
 
 " For as to what malevolent men assert, that 
 Men of high rank assisted him, and wrote with him, 
 That abuse he looks on as his greatest praise ; 
 When he is agreeable to those nobles, who please 
 You all, and the Roman people in general." 
 
ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF TERENCE. 
 
 It seems as if Terence did not choose plumply to contra- 
 dict the report of his being assisted in his writings by Sci- 
 pio and Laelius, as he knew that such an opinion was agree- 
 able to those nobles, who wished to have it entertained by 
 the public. The report gained ground in consequence of 
 Terence's unwillingness to contradict it, and in the pro- 
 logue of the Adelphi seeming almost to allow it, and was 
 established down to latter ages. 
 
 After publishing his comedies, Terence, still a young 
 man, and at the age of five and thirty years, quitted Rome, 
 as it should seem, to go to Greece, to make him self ac- 
 quainted with the institutions, manners and writings of 
 the people there, and to lay a foundation for, and find out, 
 and study new fables and comedies; but he never returned 
 to the city. 
 
 Qj Consetius says that returning from Greece he was 
 drowned in the sea, and that many writings of his taken 
 from Menander were lost at the same time. Other say, 
 that he died in Arcadia, or Leucadia, when Cri. Cornelius 
 Dolabella, and M. Fulvius were Consuls. He is said to 
 have been of middling stature, of a thin and well-shaped 
 person, and of a dark-coloured countenance. He left a 
 daughter, who married a Roman Knight. He had fields 
 or gardens of six acres by the Appiaii way. 
 
 Afranius prefers him to all the comic writers, and writes 
 thus: 
 
 Terentio non similem dices quempiam. 
 
 Cicero praises him in elegant verses, celebrating his fine 
 stile of writing thus : 
 
 Tu quoque qui solus lecto sermone, Terenti, 
 Conversum, expressumq. Latina voce Menandrum 
 In medio populi sedatis vocibus eft'ers, 
 Quidquid come loquens, ac omnia dulcia dicens. 
 
 Every good Latin classical scholar must certainly agree 
 in that opinion. " de lecto se?monc" of Terence in his 
 comedies, and also that he " quicqnid come locnttis, " as 
 well as "omnia dulcia dixit. 11 
 
ERRATAS AND CORRECTIONS. 
 
 IN THE ANDRIA. 
 
 Page 3, line 26, — " Chrysis died," read, " Chrysis dies" — 
 P. 6, 1. 15 — an omission — read, " Da. I do not — fthen bow- 
 ing low) — 
 P. 6, 1. 7 from the bottom — read, " as far as" — 
 P. 8, 1. 3 — instead of " as age," ready " usage" — 
 P. 8, 1. 16 — Omission — after " at," read, " all things were done, 
 
 and concluded" — 
 P. 15, 1. 19 from bottom — for "women", read, "woman" — 
 P. 16, 1. 19 from bottom — "I do hear," read, " do I hear" — 
 P. 16, 1. 10 from bottom — " that he was," read, " that he 
 
 has" — 
 P. 17, 1. 19 from bottom— expunge first 3 words, " from the 
 
 street" — 
 P. 19, 1. 22 from bottom— " was given her," read, "was giving 
 
 her" — 
 P. 22, 1. 2 — " I shall deny," read, " shall I deny" — 
 P. 27, 1. 17 from bottom — the parenthesis, read, (aside in a 
 
 low voice) — 
 P. 32, 1. 27 — " these doing", read, " these doings" — 
 
 IN THE EUNUCHUS. 
 
 P. 47, 1. 6 — " He bringing," read, " He is bringing" — 
 
 P. 54, 1. 2 and 3 — " I touched," read, " I may have touched" — 
 
 P, 54, 1. 13 — " I believe," read, " I believed" — 
 
 P. 54, 1. 26 — Omission — after " Phsedria,'' read, " ; or if she 
 
 praises him" — 
 P. 54, 1." 27 — " this thing done," read, " this thing alone" — 
 P. 59, 1. 6 from bottom — " whom do you see," read, M whom do 
 
 you seek" — 
 P. 65, I, 1.—" Phce" read, " 7%?."— 
 P. 77, 1. 15 — after the word " that," put a comma — 
 P. 77, L last but one— after " go ye this way," put in Parenthe- 
 sis, (they all advance) — 
 
 IN THE ADELPHI. 
 
 First Scene, line 6 — " if you delay," read, " if you may delay"— 
 
 P. 85, 1. 25 "I would not," read, " I will not'' — 
 
 P. 85, 1. 14 from bottom — "women," read, " woman" — 
 
 P. 95, note at bottom — " Queem produxi," read, " quem egomet 
 
 produxi" — 
 P. 95, 1. 13— ."I ordered," read, " I order"— 
 
 P. 95, last line, " attended," read, " attend" 
 
 P. 98, L 19 from bottom—" and should like," read. " I may 
 
 like that"— y 
 
P. 98, 1. 7 from bottom— " it was distant, 5 ' read « it might be 
 distant — ° 
 
 P. 98, 1. 5 from bottom—" he would not see," read, "he will 
 not see" — 
 
 P- 102, 1. 3—" you have said me," read, » you have said to 
 
 me — 
 
 P. 105, 1. 11 from bottom—after the word " directly," put in 
 
 " jEsc, Now directly ?'* 
 
 Act 4, Scene 8, line 1—" you take care of," read, " you have 
 
 taken care of" — 
 
 P. Ill, 1, 4—" time require," read, « time requires" 
 
 P. Ill, 1. 16 — " I would compel my son," read, " say you, I will 
 
 compel my son" — 
 P. 1 15, 1. 5 from bottom—" advise them/' read, " advised them"— 
 
 IN THE PHORMIO. 
 
 P. 122, 1. 14 from bottom—" that you kick," read, " that you 
 
 may kick" — 
 P. 125, 1. 10—" they have a full," raw?, " you have an overfulT- 
 P, 126, 2 last lines— read, " I march off (he turns away) Phce. 
 (turning away) and I truly. Ant. I entreat you" &c. 
 P. 127, I. 3 from bottom— after " adviser of it," read, " Get. 
 (behind) scarce at last. Bern. What will they say to 
 me? Or what reason will they find? I wonder 
 much !" — 
 P. 131, 1. 4 from bottom— read, "does Demipho deny"— 
 P. 132. 1. 19 — " I had esteemed," read, " I might have esteem- 
 ed" — 
 P. 133, 1. 19 from bottom — " she was related,'' read, " she 
 may be related;" — in the same line also, " the laws 
 commands," read, " the law commands" — 
 Page 136, 1. 2 — " what situation," read, " in what situation" — 
 
 Act 4, Scene 5, 1. 1 — " Demea," it should be " Demipho" 
 
 P. 149, 1. 15 — "Come to this," read, " come to the knowledge 
 of this"— 5 
 
 Act 5, Scene 3, 1. 3 — " brother," read, " cousin german" 
 
 P. 153, 1. 3 from bottom — " educated her," read, " educates 
 
 her" 
 P. 155, 1. 22 — Parenthesis, read, " (they let him go) 
 
 P. 157, 1. 10 from bottom — " what thing,'' read, " what things" 
 
 P. 157, 1- 8 from bottom — " first things," read, " first thing 
 which" — 
 
 IN THE HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS. 
 
 P. 162, 1. 19 from bottom — "clothe one," read. " clothe me ,v -- 
 P. 168, 1. 14, "gave them," read, " gave us" — 
 P. 169, 1. 11 — " I do not permit him," read, " I do permit him"— 
 P. 171, 1. 13— " Clin."— read, " Clit."— 
 
P. 172, note at bottom — read, " Luciscit hoc lumen jam" — 
 P. 177, 1. 3 from bottom — after the word " done," read, " Chr."- 
 P. 179, I. 6 from bottom — " espoused," read, " exposed" — 
 P. 182, 1. 8 from bottom, — read, " that that matter" — 
 P. 183, 1. 15 — "you shall," read, "if you shall" — 
 P. 184, 1. 14 from bottom — " is a vehicle/' read, " in a vehicle''— - 
 P. 186, 1. 19 from bottom— read, " owes to Bacchis" — 
 P. 192, at the end of the scene, read, (Chremes walks back in 
 agitation, and exit Mendemus into his house, but quickly 
 returns) — 
 Act 5, Scene 2 — read, (enter Clitipho from Mendemus's house, 
 
 Syrus following, and walks up to Menedemus) 
 P. 193, 1. 2 — " (to Syrus)," instead of this, read, "(to Menede- 
 mus)" 
 P. 196, 1. 23 — " how it shamed me," read, " how it shames me"— 
 P. 197. 1. 5, " I will," read, " I will do" — 
 P. 197, 1. 16 — expunge the word, " immediately" — 
 
 IN THE HECYRA. 
 
 P. 204, 1. 9—" this same school," read, " that same school" — 
 P. 204, 1. 17 from bottom—" cannot disturb" read, " can dis- 
 turb" — 
 P. 207, 1. 11 from bottom, " is any one where" read, " is any 
 
 one any where" — 
 P. 208, 1. the last, " it is so," expunge the word, " so" — 
 P. 221, 1. 9 — " which the father himself neglected," read, "which 
 
 the father of the girl himself neglected to announce" — 
 P. 221, 1. 14 from bottom, " whom having gratified," read, 
 " which having gratified" — 
 
 P. 224, 1. 14 — " that you make,'' read, " that you may make" 
 
 P. 224, 1. 15—" I can do/' read, " I may be able to do"— 
 P. 225, 1. 16—" he husband," read, " her husband"— 
 P. 225, 1. 31, and 32— read, " she will confer a favor on him"— 
 P. 227, I, 16 from bottom—" I earnestly be," read, " yea I 
 beseech' , — 
 

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